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Realistic  Philosophy 


DEFENDED  IN  A 


PHILOSOPHIC  SERIES 


BY 


JAMES    McCOSH,   D.D.,   LL.D.,   Litt.D. 

AUTHOB  OF   "PSYCHOLOGY,  THE  COGNITIVE  POWERS;"  "THE  LAWS   OP   DISCURSIVB 

THOUGHT,  A    TREATISE   ON   FORMAL   LOGIC;"  "THE    INTUITIONS 

OF  THE  MIND;"  "THE  EMOTIONS,"  ETC. 


President  op  Princeton  College 


II 

HISTORICAL  AND   CRITICAL 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCEIBNEE'S    SONS 

1887 


COPyRIGHT,  1884,  1885,  188T 

By  chakles  screbner's  sons 


TROWS 

MINTINQ  AND  BOOKBINOINQ  COMMNV, 

NEW  YORtO 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

GENERAL  INTRODUCTION— REALISM :  ITS  PLACE  IN  THE 
VARIOUS  PHILOSOPHIES 1 


L  LOCKE'S  THEORY  OF  KNOWLEDGE,  WITH  A  NOTICE  OF 
BERKELEY. 

Introduction — Divers  Aspects  of  First  Principles 37 

Section  L  A  Brief  Sketch  of  Locke's  Life 45 

Section  II.  Sketch  of  Locke's  General  Theoiy 52 

Section  III.  Meaning  of  Idea  and  Eeflection 56 

Section  IV.  Offices  Discharged  by  the  Faculties 58 

Section  V.  How  the  Higher  Ideas  of  the  Mind  are  Formed  . .  63 

Section  VI.  Was  Locke  an  Idealist  ? , 70 

Section  VII.  Was  Locke  a  Sensationalist  ? 73 

Section  VIII.  Locke  was  an  Experientialist 75 

Section  IX.  Was  Locke  a  Eationalist  ? 76 

Section  X.  The  Eelation  of  Locke's  Theory  to  the  Various 

Aspects  of  First  Truths 78 

Section  XI.  The  Mind  looks  at  Things  through  Ideas 83 

Section  XII.  General  View  of  Locke's  Philosophy 85 

Notice  of  Beekeley 88 


iV  CONTENTS. 

11.  AGNOSTICISM  OF   HUME    AND  HUXLEY   WITH  A  NOTICE 
OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL  AND  NOTES  ON  J.  S.  MILL. 

PART  FIRST.— DA  VID  HUME. 

PAGE 

Section  I.  A  brief  account  of  Hume's  Life 117 

Section  II.  Impressions  and  Ideas 130 

Section  III.  Memoiy 133 

Section  IV.  Space  and  Time 136 

Section  V.  Relations  and  Belief , 139 

Section  VI.  Personality  and  Identity 145 

Section  VII.  His  Beligious  Sce^Dticism 147 

Section  VIII.  Morals 150 

PART  SECOND.— HUXLEY. 

Section  IX.  Huxley's  Hume 158 

PART  THIRD.— A  NOTICE  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 

Section  X.  Thomas  Reid 173 

Section  XI.  Characteristics  of  the  Scottish  School 181 

III.  A  CRITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Biographical  Note 189 

Introductory 193 

Objections  to  His  Critical  Method 198 

Objections  to  His  Phenomenal  Theory  of  Knowledge 204 

Objections  to  His  Doctrine  of  the  Mind  Imposing  Forms  on 

Objects 211 

Kant's  Transcendental  Esthetic 218 

His  Transcendental  Analytic 223 

His  Transcendental  Dialectic 229 

The  Practical  Reason 235 

Kiitik  of  the  Judging  Faculty 238 


CONTENTS.  V 

PAGE 

Comparison  with  Scottish  School 239 

His  Idealism 245 

His  Agnosticism 24=7 

IV.  HERBERT  SPENCER'S    PHILOSOPHY  AS    CULMINATED   IN 
HIS  ETHICS. 

PART  FIRST.— HIS  FHU.OSOPHY. 

Section  I.  The    Philosophies    which    have    influenced    Mr. 

Spencer , 255 

Section  II.  The  Method  of  Procedure 260 

Section  III.  His  Metaphysics 264 

Section  IV.  The  Unknowable 267 

Section  V.  On  Evolution 270 

Section  VI.  His  Data  of  Physics 274 

Section  VII.  Biology 279 

Section  VIII.  His  Psychology 281 

PART  SECOND.— SPENCER'S  ETHICS. 

Section  IX.  Seeking  a  Basis  for  Ethics 291 

Section  X.  Data  of  Ethics 293 

Section  XI.  Virtue  as  Conduct  and  a  Mean  to  an  End 295 

Section  XII.  Development  promotes  Happiness 297 

Section  XIII.  Phenomena  overlooked  by  him 301 

Section  XIV.  His  Generation  of  Altruism  out  of  Egoism 308 

Section  XV.  Ethical  Principles  rejected  by  him 310 

Section  XVI.  His  Criticism  of  Ethical  Theories 312 

Section  XVII.  His  Utilitarianism 314 

Section  XVIII.  Special  Examination  of  his  Moral  Theory . . .  315 

Section  XIX.  Absolute  and  Relative  Ethics 318 


^. 


^^ 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION.  % 


REAIiISM :  ITS  PLACE  IN  THE  VAEIOUS  PHILOS- 
OPHIES. 

There  are  three  marked  methods  or  tendencies  in  the 
various  philosophic  sj-stems,  ancient  and  modern. 

There  is  Realism,  which  holds  that  there  are  things 
and  that  man  can  know  them.  In  a  crude  form  it  is  the 
first  philosophy,  w^hich  is  a  generalization  in  an  uncritical, 
undistinguishing  manner  of  what  seem  primary  truths. 
This  is  soon  discovered  to  he  unsatisfactory,  and  the 
speculative  intellect  adds  to  it  to  make  it  attractive ;  hence 

There  is  Idealism,  which  is  Realism  dressed  and  orna- 
mented by  the  mind  out  of  its  own  stores.  There  are 
shrewd  minds  which  notice  the  additions ;  so 

There  is  Scepticism,  which  doubts  of  or  denies  received 
doctrines.  This  may  be  total,  affirming  that  truth  cannot 
be  found,  or  partial,  denying  certain  truths.  Its  most 
prevalent  form  is  Agnosticism,  which  allows  us  to  follow 
certain  practical  maxims,  but  has  no  faith  in  any  super- 
sensible truth. 

Some  thinkers  were  interested  to  observe  that  the  New 
Pkinceton  Review,  in  its  Prospectus,  avowed  itself  a  de- 
fender of  Realism.  This,  in  a  raw  form,  is  the  first,  in  a 
digested  form  will  be  the  final,  philosophy. 

But  what  is  Realism  ?     In  answering  this  question  we 


2  GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

may  seem  to  be  explaining  what  does  not  need,  what  does 
not  seem  to  admit  of,  explanation.  Some  may  resent  our 
statement ;  they  feel  as  if  it  were  an  insult  to  their  un- 
derstandings, and  as  if  we  were  addressing  them  as  chil- 
dren. It  is  true  that  w^e  cannot  give  an  explanation  of 
reality,  which  may  explain  other  things,  but  itself  needs 
no  explanation  ;  but  we  may  so  enunciate  it  as  to  separate 
it  from  ideas,  imaginations,  and  everything  else. 

"  We  know,"  which  means  that  we  know  "  things." 
This  is  the  fact  with  which  the  intelligent  mind  starts,  and 
this  is  the  fii'st  position  which  metaphysical  philosophy, 
as  expressing  primary  facts,  should  lay  down.  We  can- 
not explain  either  of  the  terms,  "  know"  and  ''things,"  to 
one  who  does  not  know  them  already.  Those  who  know 
them,  as  all  intelligent  beings  do,  do  not  need  to  have 
them  interpreted.  We  may  say  "  knowing  is  knowing," 
and  that  "  things  are  things,"  in  this  or  in  synonymous 
phraseology ;  but  this  does  not  add  to  our  knowledge. 
When  we  wish  to  think  of  them  we  have  only  to  look  to 
what  is  passing  or  has  passed  in  our  minds.  When  we 
speak  of  them  to  others,  we  have  only  to  appeal  to  what 
they,  as  well  as  we,  have  experienced. 

While  we  cannot  give  a  positive  definition,  we  may  lay 
down  many  negative  positions  (as  Aristotle  shows  can  be 
done  in  such  cases),  as  to  what  they  are  not,  to  meet 
errors  which  have  sprung  up.  We  can  say  of  knowing 
that  it  is  not  mere  feeling  ;  of  things — say  of  external 
things— that  they  are  not  the  result  of  reasoning ;  not 
only  so,  we  may  make  some  historical  assertions  regarding 
them  which  are  not  definitions :  that  they  appear  in  in- 
fancy ;  that  we  are  never  without  them  ;  that  they  mingle 
with  all  our  states  of  mind,  with  our  thoughts,  feelings, 
and  volitions^ with  even  our  imaginations,  which  are  all 
about  things  which  we  have  in  some  sense  known. 


REALISM  IN   THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  3" 

The  knowledge  of  Being,  that  is,  of  things  having  be- 
ing, is  what  the  intelligence  starts  with.  Knowing  and 
Being  are  tlie  first  objects  contemplated  in  the  first  phi- 
losoph}^  They  are  to  be  assumed,  not  proven.  They 
may  be  premises,  but  they  are  not  conclusions  of  argu- 
ments. If  we  attempt  to  prove  them,  we  shall  find  that 
we  cannot  do  so.  While  metaphysics  cannot  prove  their 
reality,  it  can  show  that  we  may  and  ought  to  assume 
them. 

The  "thing"  and  "the  knowledge  of  the  thing"  are 
not  the  same,  and  should  never  be  confounded.  There 
may  be  growing,  in  the  depths  of  a  forest,  a  fiower  which 
never  fell  under  the  notice  of  human  intelligence.  It 
should  be  noticed  that  there  is  an  important  class  of  cases 
in  which  the  thing  is  known  by  itself  ;  thus,  the  self  is 
known  by  the  self.  But  the  two  are  different  aspects  of 
the  one  thing. 

The  thing  may  be  known  directly  and  at  once,  as  we 
say,  by  intuition.  It  is  thus  we  know  ourselves  as  think- 
ing or  feeling.  But  the  object  may  become  known  medi- 
ately, say  by  induction  and  classification,  as  when,  know- 
ing that  all  mammals  are  warm-blooded,  we  know  at  once 
that  the  cow  before  us  is  warm-blooded  ;  or,  when  we 
know  that  A  =  B,  and  B  =  C,  and  conclude  that  A  =  C. 
In  all  such  cases  we  are  in  the  region  of  Realism.  But  in 
this  article  we  are  treating  of  Bealism  in  philosophy,  that 
is,  in  first  or  fundamental  truth.  It  is  of  importance  to 
announce  the  points  which  we  assume,  or,  in  other  words, 

The  Positions  of  Realism.  There  are  two  which  come 
first  and  come  together:  the  knowledge  of  self  and  the 
knowledge  of  the  body. 

1.  The  knowledge  of  self.  This  is  a  primary  position. 
It  is  one  maintained  by  nearly  all  idealists,  who  are  so  far 
realists.     It  is  denied  only  by  the  extremest  sceptics,  who, 


4  GENERAL   IT^TRODTJCTIOl^. 

however,  always  act  upon  it.     It  should  he  formulated  as 
one  of  the  first  positions  in  philosophy. 

2.  Tiie  knowledge  of  something  external,  that  is,  of 
body  as  extended,  and  exercising  power.  Possibly  this  is 
the  first  cognitive  act  of  the  mind,  being  always  accom- 
panied by  a  consciousness  of  self,  which  knows  the  seK  as 
knowing  the  not-self. 

Some  have  maintained  that  the  knowledge  of  body  is 
iiot  a  primitive  act.  There  is  said  to  be  first  an  impression 
(a  metaphorical  and  vague  word)  or  sensation,  and  from 
this  an  inference  that  there  is  something  external.  This 
argument  is  not  logical.  We  know  the  external  thing  as 
extended,  and  we  cannot  prove  this  from  a  mere  impres- 
sion or  sensation,  which  has  no  extension.  One  who  ar- 
gues in  this  way  may  be  called  a  realist,  for  he  proceeds 
from  a  fact  (illegitimately,  I  reckon)  to  a  fact,  but  it  is 
wiser  to  assume  the  existence  of  body  as  known  to  us  im- 
mediately (see  the  argument  infra,  p.  22). 

3.  We  know  qualities  of  body  and  mind.  We  know 
these  in  knowing  the  things.  This  is  commonly  ex- 
pressed by  saying  that  we  know  things  by  their  qualities ; 
the  proper  statement  is  that  we  know  things,  mind  and 
body,  as  "having  certain  qualities.  We  know  mind  as  per- 
ceiving, judging,  resolving ;  we  know  body  as  having  ex- 
tension and  resisting  energy.  These  being  realities,,  we 
can  contemplate  them,  and  we  make  afiirmations  and  de- 
nials regarding  them,  and  we  can  know  more  of  them. 
He  who  aflBlrms  that  Matter  has  not  extension,  as  Berkeley 
does,  is  not  a  thorough  realist.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
one,  a  materialist,  who  does  not  allow  that  we  are  con- 
scious of  mind  as  thinking  and  feeling. 

4.  We  know  space  and  time.  These  come  in  with,  and 
are  involved^in,  our  knowledge  of  mind  and  body.  Every 
one  naturally  looks  upon  them  as  realities,  and  cannot  b^; 


EEALISM   IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  5^ 

made  to  think  otherwise.  Thej  may  not  have  an  inde- 
pendent existence — we  have  no  reason  to  think  that  they 
have — but  they  have  a  real  existence.  Bat,  it  is  asked, 
What  sort  of  nature  and  existence  ?  I  answer.  What  we 
naturally  perceive  them  to  have.  Puzzling  questions  may 
be  asked,  but  the  difficulties  cannot  unsettle  our  natural 
convictions. 

5.  We  know  good  and  evil.  According  to  the  view  I 
take,  virtue  consists  in  "  love  according  to  law."  Both  of 
these  are  realities.  Certainly,  there  is  love  in  all  morality, 
implying  a  living  being.  Law  is  also  a  reality,  implying 
an  agent  under  authority — some  would  say  also  a  lawgiver, 
and  reckon  this  a  most  satisfactory  argument  for  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  This  law  implies  obligation  or  oughtness, 
which  is  also  a  reality. 

6.  There  are  realities  in  relations.  Some  of  these  may 
be  discovered  intuitively,  as  in  the  very  nature  of  the 
things.  We  first  discover  the  reality  of  things,  say  mind 
and  body,  with  their  qualities,  and  then  we  discover  the 
reality  of  the  relation  between  things,  say  their  identity  in 
different  circumstances,  or  their  likeness,  or  the  produc- 
tion of  one  by  another.  He  who  denies  the  reality  of 
these,  and  makes  them  mere  forms  imposed  on  things  by 
the  mind,  is  so  far  a  sceptic  or  agnostic,  and  is  seeking  to 
deliver  himself  from  this  by  becoming  an  idealist. 

7.  There  are  other  realities,  about  which  there  are  dis- 
putes, and  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  enumerate.  For 
example,  the  mind  has  in  the  germ  an  idea  of  and  belief 
in  the  Infinite,  as  was  held  by  Anselm,  Descartes,  and 
Leibnitz ;  it  cannot  be  made  to  believe  that,  however  far 
out  we  go,  there  is  an  end  of  existence.  A  true  realist  be- 
lieves in  the  existence  of  infinity.  But  I  do  not  profess  to 
mention  here  all  our  intuitions.  The  enumeration  and  de- 
fence of  them  would  involve  a  full  system  of  metaphysics. 


6"  GENEEAL  INTRODUCTIOlSr. 

Assuming  these  as  the  fundamental  positions  of  Heal- 
ism,  there  are  few  systems  of  philosoph}^  which  liave  really 
or  avowedly  followed  them  out.  Indeed,  scarcely  any  sys- 
tem has  been  pure  Eealism,  thorough-going  Idealism,  or 
absolute  Scepticism  ;  most  have  been  a  heterogeneous  mix- 
ture of  some  two,  or  the  whole  three,  of  these  methods. 
Almost  all  have  laid  claim  to  some  kind  of  reality.  But 
some  add  to  nature  in  order  to  make  it  more  complete. 
Others  abstract  certain  encumbrances,  as  they  reckon  them, 
to  make  it  more  rational.  Most  systems  indulge  in  both 
the  addition  and  abstraction.  The  additions  of  the  ideal- 
ist are  attacked  by  the  sceptic,  who  in  doing  so  knocks 
down  the  whole  fabric.  The  denials  of  the  sceptic  are 
met  by  unfounded  statements  on  the  part  of  the  idealist, 
who  thereby  makes  the  building  top-heavy,  and  ready  to 
fall.  The  result  is  confusion  and  contradictions ;  not  in 
things,  but  in  our  exposition  of  them.  This  must  con- 
tinue till  it  is  laid  down  as  a  principle  that  the  aim  of  all 
investigation  in  philosophy,  as  in  science,  is  to  discover 
facts,  and  nothing  but  facts. 

The  object  of  philosophy  is  to  state  and  defend  the 
reality  of  things.  Believing  them  to  be  real,  it  is  the  ob- 
ject of  the  ordinary  sciences,  physical  and  mental,  to  dis- 
cover their  laws. 

Though  there  are  few  pure  systems  of  philosophic  Real-' 
ism,  yet  nearly  all  claim  to  have  reality  in  them,  and  most 
of  them  have  it,  in  part.  It  may  serve  some  important 
purposes  to  go  over  the  more  distinguished  systems,  an- 
cient and  modern,  and  to  ask  what  Bealism  each  has, 
which,  with  me,  means  to  inquire  what  truth  there  is  in  it. 
This  is  a  difficult  and  hitherto  an  unattempted  work — to 
pick  the  nuggets  of  gold  out  of  the  concrete  earth  in  which 
they  are  eml^edded.  No  one  man  can  accomplish  it.  He 
may  begin  it,  but  it  will  require  a  number  of  scholars  and 


REALISM   IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  7 

lliinkers  to  carry  it  on  toward  completion.  It  is  to  be  under- 
stood that  my  design  is  not  to  discard  other  philosophies,  but 
to  call  out  of  all  of  them  what  is  true  and  good,  and  this 
not  arbitrarily,  but  according  to  a  principle,  that  of  reality. 

Meanwhile  it  may  be  interesting,  after  the  manner  of 
American  interviewers,  to  ask  each  of  our  great  philo- 
sophic thinkers  what  is  his  opinion  as  to  the  reality  of 
things.  I  cherish  the  hope  that  even  those  who  have  no 
special  taste  for  metaphysics  may  rather  be  pleased  to  have 
a  brief  interview  with  those  who  have  ruled  thought  in 
ancient  and  modern  times.   • 

The  Gkeek  Philosophy.  The  Greeks,  impelled  by 
their  clear  and  penetrating  intellect,  were  ever  seeking 
after  reality,  the  to  6v  and  to  ehai.  This  was  the  grand 
aim  of  their  philosophy.  It  was  not  the  German  search 
after  the  Absolute  (which  the  German  historians  so  often 
attribute  to  the  Greeks)  ;  bat  it  was  for  something  nearer 
and  closer.  They  perceived  that  all  that  appeared  to  the 
senses,  all  that  presented  itself  to  the  mind,  was  not  a 
reality.  But  they  were  sure  that  there  was  a  reality,  and 
they  were  bent  on  finding  it ;  on  finding  essential  being  to 
6W«9  6V.  So  with  them  the  fundamental  distinction  was 
not  the  modern  one  between  a  priori  and  a  posteriori 
truth,  but  between  the  apparent  and  the  real  (  to  (pacvo/ie- 
vov  and  to  6v). 

With  some  the  reality  was  merely  in  the  senses,  and 
they  had  no  higher.  Others  put  no  faith  in  the  senses  as 
organs  of  truth,  which  they  thought,  however,  could  be 
discovered  by  the  higher  reason.  The  former  are  like  the 
mountains  which  we  have  often  seen  in  the  Alps,  with 
their  base  clear  and  their  tops  in  the  clouds  ;  the  latter  are 
like  those  which  have  their  base  in  mist  and  their  sum- 
mit in  sunshine.  Realism  seeks  to  have  the  mountain 
clear  from  base  to  top. 


8  GENEEAL  INTEODUCTION. 

The  Ionian  Physiologists  sought  after  the  origin  of 
things  which  they  found  in  elements.  With  the  common 
people,  they  took  things  as  they  found  them,  and  did  not 
inquire  specially  into  the  nature  of  Being. 

The  Pythagorean  or  Italic  school  sought  for  a  unity 
and  harmony,  and  found  it  in  numbers  and  forms  which 
they  considered  to  be  as  real  as,  or,  rather,  more  real  than, 
the  things  they  combined.  They  had  no  special  ethical 
system,  but  in  conformity  with  their  mathematical  concep- 
tions they  made  virtue  a  square  number. 

The  Eleatics.  It  is  a  noteworthy  circumstance  that  the 
search  of  the  first  metaphysical  philosophers  of  Greece  was 
for  the  nature  of  existence.  ^'  Only  Being  is,  non-Being 
is  not  and  cannot  be  thought."  Being  has  not  been 
created,  has  not  been  generated,  cannot  change,  and  can 
never  cease.  The  mistake  of  the  Eleatics  consisted  not  in 
standing  up  resolutely  for  Being,  but  in  saying  too  much 
about  it.  They  sought  for  it  down  in  great  depths, 
whereas  it  lies  patent  on  the  surface.  Instead  of  drawing 
water  from  the  well  by  just  plunging  in  the  pitcher,  they 
penetrated  the  bottom  and  stirred  up  mud.  Existence  is 
not  a  separate  thing,  like  a  stick  or  a  stone.  It  is  an  ab- 
straction from  concrete  realities,  sav  of  a  stick  and  a  stone. 
The  error  lay  in  hypostasizing  an  abstraction.  There  is 
no  meaning  in  the  saying  that  existence  exists.  The 
proper  statement  is  that  things  exist.  Of  non-Being,  of 
which  they  discoursed  so  much,  no  positive  assertions  can 
be  made  ;  it  is  simply  nonsense  to  talk  of  it  being  a  cause 
or  condition  of  anything. 

The  Eleatics  formally  introduced  into  the  Greek  philos- 
ophy the  doctrine  that  the  senses  make  known  not  realities, 
but  appearances,  and  are  the  sources  of  all  error.  They 
were  right  W  holding  that  there  is  fixed  Being,  but  wrong 
in  arguing  that  it  cannot  change,  and  that  there  cannot  be 


REALISM   IN   THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  9 

motion  ;  change  and  motion  are  as  palpable  realities  as  the 
things. 

Heracleitos  was  an  offset  from  the  Ionian  school.  Ac- 
cording to  him  all  things  are  in  a  perpetual  flux,  and  the 
reality  is  a  becoming — a  truth  which  the  Eleatics  did  not 
discover.  He  believed  in  a  Zeus  "  who  wills  and  wills  not 
to  be  known." 

Anaxagoras,  a  profound  thinker,  believed  in  all  things 
being  made  of  equal  parts,  and  arranged  by  a  divine  vov^s. 

The  Atomists,^\\Q\i  as  the  Thracian  Democritus  and 
the  Latin  Lucretius,  held  that  the  proper  realities  were 
atoms  with  a  void  between,  by  their  motions  producing 
all  things.  They  were  avowed  materialists,  and  repre- 
sented the  soul  as  consisting  in  fine  smooth  and  round 
atoms.  They  introduced  an  ideal  theory,  which,  in  one 
form  or  other,  has  been  held  ever  since.  The  soul  does 
not  perceive  things  directlj^,  but  their  images  (el'SwXa), 
which  proceed  from  objects  and  are  received  by  something 
cognate  in  our  senses.  In  modern  times  the  theory  has 
assumed  a  more  spiritual  form  in  the  philosophy  of  Des- 
cartes and  Locke,  and  the  images  are  supposed  to  be  in 
the  brain  or  mind.  It  has  taken  all  the  patient  observa- 
tion of  Eeid  and  the  logical  skill  of  Hamilton  to  expel 
this  theory  from  philosophy  and  bring  us  to  the  very  bor- 
ders of  Realism. 

Hitherto  the  philosophers  had  their  seats  in  the  various 
Greek  colonies.  From  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century 
B.C.,  philosophy  centres  in  Athens,  "  the  eye  of  Greece." 

The  Sophists  were  professional  teachers,  who  instructed 
young  men  to  act  and  speak.  They  had  no  faith  in  truth. 
They  introduced  the  doctrine  of  Eelativity,  that  truth  is 
relative  to  the  individual ;  that  what  is  true  to  one  man 
may  not  be  true  to  another.  Protagoras  said  that  "  man 
is  the  measure  of  all  things,  both  of  that  which  exists  and 


10  GENERAL   INTRODUCTIOIf. 

of  that  which  does  not  exist."  This  Relativity  led,  as  it 
always  does,  to  nescience,  and  Gorgias  is  reported  as  hold- 
ing that  "nothing  exists,  and  if  it  exists  it  is  unknowable, 
and  granting  that  it  were  knowable  it  could  not  be  com- 
municated to  others." 

Socrates,  as  depicted  by  Xenophon,  looks  like  a  realist. 
Plato  often  makes  him  appear  as  an  idealist.  He  prob- 
ably never  seriously  considered  the  question  as  between 
realism  and  idealism.  He  certainly  believed  in  the  reality 
of  things  around  him,  but  could  soar  into  the  higher 
spheres  of  speculation.  He  believed  in  one  supreme  God, 
the  arranger  and  governor  of  all  things,  and  in  a  provi- 
dence and  final  cause.  He  also  believed  in  the  gods  of 
his  country,  and  in  a  daimonion  which  exercised  a  restrain- 
ing influence  upon  him.  He  regarded  virtue  as  consisting 
in  knowledge,  by  which  he  meant  as  I  understand  him  the 
knowledge  of  the  good,  and  is  thus  separated  from  modern 
utilitarians,  with  whom  Grote  identifies  him,  but  spent  his 
life  in  showing  that  virtue  ever  leads  to  happiness. 

Plato  sought  to  combine  the  perpetual  flux  of  Hera- 
cleitos  with  the  immutable  Being  of  the  Eleatics.  He 
was  surely  right  in  holding  by  both  doctrines.  They  do 
not  need  to  be  reconciled,  for  there  is  no  discordance  be- 
tween them ;  the  two  joined  constitute  the  truth. 

He  allowed  to  the  Eleatics  that  the  senses  give  us  only  ap- 
pearances and  not  realities,  and  that  they  lead  to  errors  and 
delusions.  To  counteract  these  he  called  in  the  higher 
reason,  vov<^  or  X6709,  which,  being  trained  by  mathemat- 
ics and  philosophic  dialectics,  gazes  directly  on  the  Idea 
which  is  in  (5r  before  the  Divine  Mind.  This  Idea  is  the 
one  grand  reality,  and  other  things,  such  as  matter,  moral 
good,  and  beauty  are  real  only  so  far  as  they  partake  of  it. 
This  is  graphically  represented  in  the  myth  of  the  cave, 
in  which  mankind  are  compared  to  chained  prisoners,  who 


EEALISM   IN-  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  ll 

see  only  the  shadows  of  things  on  a  wall  before  them,  till, 
their  chains  being  broken,  they  turn  round  and  behold 
realities ;  so  man  naturally  does  not  know  things,  till  by 
philosophic  training  he  is  enabled  to  behold  them.  Here 
we  have  a  somewhat  incongruous  union  of  Idealism  and 
Eealism,  which,  following  Plato,  is  a  characteristic  of 
nearly  all  later  systems.  It  is  Eealism  not  assumed,  but 
reached  by  a  process,  which,  as  not  beginning  with  reality, 
can  never  logically  reach  it.  So  far  as  the  senses  are  con- 
cerned, he  is  not  a  realist,  but  he  is  in  regard  to  reason, 
which  is  the  true  oro^an  of  realitv.  He  reo^ards  it  as  one 
of  the  functions  of  the  reason  to  correct  the  deception  of 
the  senses.  The  proper  statement  is  that  the  senses,  in- 
ternal and  external,  give  us  the  real,  and  it  is  one  of  the 
offices  of  the  reason  to  tell  us  precisely  what  the  senses 
reveal,  and  for  this  purpose  to  distinguish  between  our 
original  and  acquired  perceptions,  and  to  reject  fancies 
and  erroneous  inferences. 

Mixed  always  with  Idealism,  which  cannot  be  separated 
from  it,  we  have  a  very  elevated  Realism  in  Plato.  He 
believes  in  the  reality  of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the 
good.  The  highest  excellence  of  the  mind  consisted  in 
the  contemplation  of  moral  good,  which  derives  its  excel- 
lence from  its  partaking  of  the  Divine  Idea. 

The  Alexandrian  school  took  one  side  of  Plato's  phi- 
losophy and  carried  it  to  an  extreme.  They  represented, 
as  the  highest  excellence,  intuition  or  ecstasy,  which  is  the 
immediate  gazing  on  the  one  and  the  good.  It  should  be 
noticed  that  in  all  this  they  had  not  the  living  and  true 
God,  that  is,  a  personal  God,  but  simply  an  abstraction. 

Aristotle  is  a  thorough  and  consistent  realist.  There 
are  scarcely  any  idealist  or  sceptical  elements  in  his  phi- 
losophy. "  By  nature  man  is  competently  organized  for 
truth,  and  truth  in  general  is  not  beyond  his  reach." 


12  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION". 

He  corrected  the  wliole  of  the  early  philosophy  of 
Greece  by  showing  that  the  senses  do  not  deceive,  and 
that  the  supposed  illusions  arise  from  the  wrong  interpre- 
tation of  the  intimations  they  give,  and  inferences  we 
draw  from  them.  He  drew  an  important  distinction  be- 
tween common  percepts,  that  is,  common  to  all  the  senses — 
which  are  nnity,  number,  size,  figure,  time,  rest,  and  mo- 
tion— and  proper  percepts,  peculiar  to  one  sense,  such  as 
color  to  the  eye  and  odors  to  the  smell.  This  turns  out  to 
be  the  same  distinction,  though  seen  under  a  somewhat 
different  aspect,  as  that  drawn  in  modern  times  between 
the  primary  and  secondaiy  qualities,  used  by  Locke  and 
Eeid  to  defend  the  veracity  of  the  senses.  He  has  been 
quoted  as  holding  the  ideal  theory  of  sense-perception 
when  he  says  that  tlie  senses  give  us  "  the  form  and  not 
the  matter,*'  but  Hamilton  shows  (Note  M,  to  Reid^s  Coll. 
Works),  ih^t  this  statement  is  quite  consistent  with  im- 
mediate perception. 

While  he  held  that  the  senses  give  us  true  knowledge, 
lie  affirms  the  same  of  other  faculties,  as,  for  instance,  the 
memory,  drawing  an  important  distinction  between  simple 
memory  (fjLvrj(ri<i)  and  recollection  {avdfivrjaL^),  in  which 
we  hunt  after  a  thought.  He  allots  the  highest  function 
to  the  reason  (z^oO?),  which  takes  two  forms,  the  passive 
which  simply  receives,  and  the  active  which  acts.  His 
categories,  ten  in  number,  are  a  classification  of  what  may 
be  predicated  about  realities  and  their  action. 

He  was  called  the  Thinker  of  Plato's  school,  and  I  can 
conceive  him  as  he  sat  for  years  under  the  teaching  of  his 
great  master,  indicating  unmistakably  his  doubts  of  some 
of  his  positions,  and  justifying  himself  by  the  principle 
that  much  as  he  loved  Plato  he  loved  truth  still  more.  He 
did  not  altogether  set  aside  the  ideal  theory  of  Plato,  but 
he  corrected  it,  by  showing  that  the  Idea  was  not  reality 


EEALISM  IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  13 

above  things,  but  in  things,  which  is  the  true  doctrine. 
He  takes  the  right  view  of  the  discussion  which  has  risen 
in  modern  times  as  to  innate  ideas.  He  designates  Reason 
as  "  the  repository  of  principles "  {roTrof;  elScov),  not  in 
actuality,  but  in  capacity.  He  has  a  well-known  division 
of  cause — which  he  defines  as  "  what  makes  a  thing  to  be 
what  it  is  " — into  material,  efficient,  formal,  and  final,  all 
of  which  have  a  reality  and  a  deep  meaning  in  every  ob- 
ject in  nature.  His  views  of  moral  good  are  not  so  elevat- 
ing as  those  of  his  master,  but  they  are  more  definite. 
His  definition  of  virtue,  however,  is  somewhat  compli- 
cated. "  It  is  a  deliberate  habit  (or  tendency)  in  a  mean 
relative  to  us,  defined  by  right  reason  and  as  a  wise  man 
may  declare ; "  where  it  should  be  observed  he  makes 
virtue  to  be  an  act  of  the  will  determined  by  right 
reason. 

The  Stoics  were  materialists,  believing  only  in  the 
existence  of  Matter.  But  they  gave  to  Matter,  especially 
to  fiery  Matter,  of  which  the  gods  and  the  souls  of  men 
consisted,  a  power  of  thinking  and  moral  perception. 
They  had  a  r^yefjiovLKov^  or  ruling  principle,  which  deter- 
mined what  was  true  and  false,  good  and  evil.  Following 
Crates  the  Cynic,  they  represented  virtue  as  the  only  good 
and  made  it  consist  in  following  nature  and  vice  as  the 
only  evil. 

The  Epicureans  adopted  the  theory  of  Democritus  as 
to  images  floating  to  the  mind  in  order  to  perception. 
They  had  a  canonicon,  which  guaranteed  knowledge.  It 
combined  the  knowledge  given  by  the  senses,  and  was  a 
kind  of  loose  induction.  They  regarded  pleasure  as  the 
only  good,  and  sought  to  obtain  freedom  from  care.  It 
is  justice  to  add  that  they  gave  the  mind  an  anticipation 
{7rp6\r)'\{n^)  which  revealed  some  higher  truth,  and  the 
existence  of  the  gods. 


14  GENEEAL  INTRODUCTION. 

The  HoMAjf  Philosophy.  I  do  not  dwell  upon  it.  It 
has  not  much  that  is  original.  Lucretius  has  given  a  phi- 
losophy to  the  Epicureans.  Cicero,  an  Academic,  has 
given  us  interesting  views  of  the  ancient  Greek  sects,  and 
defended  truth  as  probable.  M.  Aurelius  and  Epictetus, 
the  Stoics,  give  us  a  perception  of  moral  good,  and  are  our 
sternest  heathen  moralists. 

The  Medieval  Philosophy.  Boethius  gives  the  Stoic 
morality  under  a  Christian  aspect.  The  great  body  of 
the  medisevalists  had  a  strong  logical  tendency,  and  meant 
to  follow  Aristotle — which  they  did  not  always  do,  as  they 
had  not  his  writings  in  tlie  original.  Abelard's  maxim 
was  intellige  ut  credas  /  Anselm's,  crede  ut  intelligas. 
They  held  that  we  reach  realities,  human  and  divine,  both 
by  intelligence  and  faith,  the  former  primarily  by  intelli- 
gence, the  latter  by  faith.  In  the  midst  of  them  was  a 
body  of  Mystics,  such  as  Eckhart  and  Tauler,  sprung  from 
the  pseudo-Dyonysius  and  John  Scot  Erigena,  who  were 
Mystic  idealists. 

Bacon  was  the  freshest  thinker  of  his  age,  and  has  had 
the  largest  and  happiest  influence.  But  he  was  not  spe- 
cially a  metaphysician.  Wise  man  as  he  was,  he  took 
things  as  he  found  them,  and  has  shown  how  we  may  rise 
from  particular  things  to  minor,  middle,  and  major  axioms, 
and  finally  to  causes  and  forms.  He  adopts  Aristotle's 
fourfold  division  of  causes,  which  were  all  reckoned  by 
him  as  I'eal,  final  cause  testifying  in  behalf  of  God.  The 
highest  aim  of  science  is  to  discover  formal  cause,  which 
is  next  unto  God,  and  makes  a  thing  to  be  what  it  is ; 
thus  lie  found  motion  to  be  the  form  of  heat,  and  was 
ridiculed  for  ages  for  saying  so.  I  claim  Bacon  as  favor- 
ing the  philosophy  of  Bealism.  He  begins  with  it,  pro- 
ceeds witl^  it  throughout,  and  ends  with  it.  But  he  has 
nowhere  expounded  it. 


EEALISM  IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  15 

Descartes  may  be  claimed  as  a  realist,  tliougli  I  am 
not  sm-e  that  he  carried  out  the  system  consistently,  lie 
starts  with  "  I  think,"  which  he  assumes.  This  implies 
the  ego,  "  cogito  ergo  su?ny  I  think  his  assumption 
should  have  been  ego  cogitans,  as  a  fact  of  consciousness. 
From  this  he  derives  other  truths  by  what  he  regards  as  a 
rigidly  logical  process.  In  the  ego  there  is  the  idea  of 
the  Infinite,  the  Perfect,  which  implies  the  existence  of  a 
corresponding  object,  that  is,  God.  We  have  all  an  idea  of 
extension,  and  the  Divine  Yeracity  guarantees  the  existence 
of  an  extended  body.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  all  the 
reasoning  is  valid,  but  lie  believed  it  to  be  so,  and  he  pro- 
ceeds from  realities  to  realities.  lie  draws  a  high  ethics 
from  the  perfect  character  of  God.  It  would  have  been 
wiser  in  Descartes  to  assume,  as  Eeid  and  Hamilton  did, 
the  existence  of  Matter,  instead  of  seeking  to  prove  it  by 
what  is  not  clearer  than  what  he  proves.  Descartes  has 
made  French  philosophy  and  French  thinking  generally 
clear  and  realistic.  It  can  be  shown  that  Descartes  held 
the  ideal  theory  of  sense-perception,  that  is,  that  we  per- 
ceive external  objects  by  ideas  in  the  brain  or  in  the  mind. 

Malebranche,  called  the  Christian  Plato,  did  not  trust 
sensation  or  sentiment,  but  made  ideas  discover  truth. 
He  believed  in  Matter  on  the  ground  of  Scripture  (being 
a  Catholic,  he  believed  in  the  Real  Presence  in  the  sacra- 
ment), when  his  philosophic  principles  might  have  led  him 
into  Idealism. 

jSpinosa  has  been  much  lauded  for  several  ages  past  by 
those  who  favor  Pantheism  and  follow  the  higher  German 
philosophy,  on  which  he  has  exercised  a  powerful  in- 
fluence. His  method  is  the  mathematical  one  of  Des- 
cartes, what  I  call  the  joint  dogmatic  and  deductive, 
a  method  not  applicable  to  philosophy.  He  starts  with 
definitions  which  are  ill-defined  and  with  axioms  which 


16  GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

are  arbitrary.  We  are  not  sure  whether  his  deductions 
are  logical  or  mere  logomachies.  Like  Descartes,  whom 
he  so  far  followed,  he  had  realities  both  in  extension  and 
thinking.  But,  unlike  Descartes,  who  so  widely  sepa- 
rated the  two,  he  identifies  them  in  one  substance  which 
he  calls  God,  of  whom  all  existing  things,  including  moral 
evil,  are  modes. 

Hohbes  is  certainly  a  superlatively  clear  thinker  and 
writer.  What  he  sees  he  sees  clearly  and  expresses  it 
dogmatically.  There  are  persons  who  are  sure  that  one 
who  asserts  so  unhesitatingly  must  be  speaking  truly. 
He  is  not  a  comprehensive  thinker.  He  overlooks  the 
most  obvious  facts,  as  patent  and  as  important  as  those 
he  notices.  He  believes  in  the  bodily  senses,  but  does  not 
give  them  an  immediate  perception,  and  he  dwells  upon 
extension  and  motion.  But  he  has  no  place  in  his  phi- 
losophy for  self-consciousness,  when  it  gives  us  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  self  as  thinking  and  feeling. 

Loche,  a  man  of  profound  sense  and  great  sagacity, 
meant  to  be  a  realist.  But,  following  a  wrong  philosophic 
principle,  he  became  theoretically  an  idealist.  He  declares 
that  the  mind  is  percipient  only  of  its  ideas.  If  this  be 
so,  it  is  difiicult  to  see  how  it  could  ever  come  to  know 
any  external  object.  Idea  is  defined  as  "  the  object  of  the 
understanding  when  it  thinks."  The  true  account  is  that 
it  is  the  thing  without  the  mind  or  within  the  mind  which 
is  the  object  of  the  understanding,  and  it  is  the  apprehen- 
sion of  this  thing  which  constitutes  the  idea. 

He  reconciled,  himself  to  his  doctrine  by  regarding  the 
ideas  as  representing  things.  But  if  the  mind  did  and 
could  not  perceive  the  things,  there  is  no  means  of  prov- 
ing that  there  are  things,  or  that  they  correspond  to  the 
ideas.  So,  while  Locke  was  a  realist  in  his  personal  con- 
victions, in  his  philosophy  he  was  an  idealist. 


P.EALISM   liS"   THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  17 

In  following  out  his  tlieoiy  lie  had  to  define  knowledge, 
not,  as  is  commonly  done,  as  the  agreement  of  our  ideas 
with  things,  hut  as  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or 
repugnance  of  our  ideas  with  one  another.  His  theory 
thus  shut  him  up  into  his  own  mind,  and  allowed  him  no 
outlet  logically.  lie  would  have  been  entitled  to  assume 
that  the  mind  perceives  things,  but  he  had  no  proof  that 
the  ideas  were  representative  of  things. 

On  one  very  important  point  (this  has  seldom  been 
noticed)  Locke  was  a  realist  avowedly  and  truly.  He  held 
that  the  mind  did  not  perceive  things,  but  ideas  ;  but  that, 
having  ideas  which  are  representations  of  things,  we  can 
compare  them  ;  and  when  we  do  so  immediately  this  is 
intuition.  He  should  have  brought  in  intuition  at  an 
earlier  stage,  and  given  the  mind  a  direct  intuition  of 
tilings  externa]  and  internal  (he  should  have  given  to  sen- 
sation and  reflection  an  intuition  of  things).  But  I  rejoice 
to  find  him  bringing  in  intuition,  even  at  this  late  stage. 
It  gives  him  demonstration  in  which  all  the  steps  are  seen 
to  be  true  intuitively.  On  the  supposition  that  ideas  rep- 
resent things,  he  is  entitled  to  maintain  that  the  mind 
perceives  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  things  through 
ideas. 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  Locke,  bent  on  carrying  out 
his  theory  that  the  mind  has  only  two  inlets  of  knowl- 
edge, sensation  and  reflection,  does  not  allow  it  a  power  of 
moral  perception — it  was  left  to  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcli- 
eson  to  supply  this.  According  to  him,  the  idea  of  moral 
good  and  evil  is  given  by  sensation,  with  God  called  in  to 
reward  the  good  and  punish  the  evil. 

Berkeley  is  the  representative  idealist  of  the  English 

philosophy.     He  carried  out  the  idealism  of  Locke  to  its 

logical   consequences.     If   the  mind  can   never  perceive 

anything  but  ideas,  there  is  no  evidence  of  there  being 

Vol.  II.— 3 


18  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION. 

anything  else  ;  and  if  there  were,  it  could  never  be  known, 
and  could  serve  no  purpose.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
Berkeley  is  a  realist,  and  a  determined  realist :  he  believes 
in  the  reality  of  ideas  created  and  sustained  by  the  Divine 
Being,  and  in  this  way  (not  very  wisely,  I  think)  he  op- 
posed materialism  and  irreligion.  Ideas  serve  the  same 
end  in  philosophy  as  things  do  in  the  vulgar  belief,  and 
there  is  no  need  of  calling  in  atoms  and  molecules  and  ex- 
tensions, with  their  materialistic  tendencies  and  their  con- 
tradictions. Berkeley's  philosophy  is  made  attractive  by 
his  representing  sensible  things  as  a  system  of  signs  of 
divine  truths.  This  may  be  as  true  as  it  is  beautiful,  but 
it  can  become  so  only  by  holding  that  sensible  things  are 
real. 

Leibnitz.  Looking  to  his  mathematics  as  well  as  his 
metaphysics,  Leibnitz  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  the 
greatest  genius  among  the  German  philosophers.  He  has 
this  great  merit,  that  he  thinks  and  writes  clearly.  The 
defect  of  many  of  his  speculations,  particularly  his  monad- 
ical  theory,  is  that  they  cannot  be  proved  nor  disproved. 
He  has  one  reality  in  monads,  which  have  an  essential  ex- 
istence and  inherent  power,  but  do  not  act  on  each  other. 

Shaftesbui'y  corrected  Locke's  narrow  views  of  the  inlets 
of  knowledge  by  calling  in,  besides  the  two  upheld  by 
Locke,  namely,  sensation  and  reflection,  a  sense  of  beauty, 
a  sense  of  honor,  etc.,  and  especially  a  moral  sense  which 
perceived  moral  good. 

Sutler^  in  his  treatise  on  Identity,  stands  up  for  the  ex- 
istence and  identity  of  the  soul,  and  in  his  Sermons  for  a 
conscience  which  looks  at  the  good,  and  has  authority  over 
all  the  other  powers  of  the  mind. 

Hutcheson  is  the  founder  of  the  Scottish  school.  He 
adheres  to  ^\q  ideal  theory  of  sense-perception  ;  otherwise 
he  is  a  realist.     He  believes  in  a  moral  sense,  a  sense  of 


REALISM   IN   THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  19 

beauty,  and  other  senses,  much  the  same  as  Shaftesbury. 
His  moral  system  is  defective  in  that  it  makes  virtue  con> 
fiist  in  benevolence,  overlooking  law  and  justice. 

Hume  wished  it  to  be  understood  that  as  a  man  he 
believed  and  acted  very  much  as  other  people  do.  But  as 
a  philosophic  thinker  he  took  up  the  positions  held  by 
the  reputed  philosophers  of  his  day,  especially  Descartes, 
Locke,  and  Berkeley,  and  inquired  what  was  their  founda- 
tion, and  the  conclusions  to  which  they  logically  led  ;  and 
in  doing  so,  found  that  there  were  left  no  real  things,  but 
only  impressions,  without  a  thing  impressed  or  a  thing  to 
impress,  and  ideas,  which  are  fainter  impressions.  Ever 
since,  philosophy  has  been  laboring  to  build  up  the  breach 
which  has  been  made  by  the  assaults  of  the  great  sceptic. 
Starting  with  impressions  and  their  fainter  reproductions, 
he  could  never  reach  things.  Under  memory  he  could  get 
only  an  identity  imposed  by  the  mind.  Belief  is  only  an 
impression  of  a  lively  kind,  accompanying  an  idea.  He 
gives  mind  a  capacity  of  discovering  a  number  of  relations. 
Four  of  these,  resemblance,  contrariety,  degree,  propor- 
tion, do  not  seem  to  carry  us  beyond  the  present  impres- 
sion. Three  others,  identity,  space  and  time,  cause  and 
effect,  seem  to  do  so,  but  do  not.  He  labors  to  show  as  to 
cause  and  effect  that  there  is  nothing  in  it  but  invariable 
antecedence  and  consequence.  The  belief  in  it  is  the  effect 
of  habit  and  the  association  of  ideas. 

In  moral  good  there  is  only  a  tendency  to  promote  hap- 
piness. There  is  no  valid  evidence  of  any  interference 
with  the  orderly  succession  of  nature  by  miracles,  which 
are  violations  of  the  laws  of  nature.  The  aim  of  Hume 
in  all  this  is  to  undermine  the  evidence  which  we  have  for 
the  existence  of  things.  He  is  to  be  met  successfully  only 
by  a  thorough-going  Realism,  showing  that  we  are  justified 
in  assuming  the  existence  of  things. 


20  GENERAL   HS-TRODUCTIOISr. 

Held  was  the  first  worthy  opponent  of  Hume.  He  was 
distinguished  by  good  sense  and  patient  observation.  He 
was  a  realist  in  practical  belief,  and  meant  to  be  so  in 
philosophy.  He  succeeded  parti all}^  Hume  may  be  met 
at  two  points,  as  he  enters  and  as  he  proceeds.  Reid  met 
him  at  both.  He  saw  the  danger  of  allowing  the  Trojan 
horse  to  enter  the  city.  He  shows  that  in  perception  by 
the  senses  we  come  to  know  the  primary  qualities  of 
bodies.  I  am  not  sure  that  his  account  of  the  perceptive 
act  is  thoroughly  correct.  He  brings  in,  first,  sensation, 
and  then  perception  ;  the  sensation  suggesting  (an  unfor- 
tunate phrase,  taken  from  Locke  and  Berkeley)  the  per- 
ception. He  argues  resolutely  that  the  process  is  instinct- 
ive, and  is  perceived  by  reason  in  the  first  degree,  or 
common  sense.  But  there  does  not  seem  to  be  any  proof 
that  the  sensation  comes  before  the  perception,  or  that  the 
former  suggests  the  latter  ;  they  seem  to  come  together. 
The  doctrine  of  natural  Realism  is  that  the  mind  comes  to 
know  at  once  the  extended  object  beyond  the  body  or 
within  the  body — how  far  in  we  may  not  be  able  to  deter- 
mine. Reid  does  not  dwell  at  such  length  as  we  might 
expect  on  self-consciousness  and  the  knowledge  of  self  im- 
parted by  it ;  but  he  represents  it  as  revealing  to  us  mind, 
with  its  qualities.  He  meets  Hume  at  all  his  farther 
stages.  There  is  memory,  which  brings  up  past  events  as 
real.  Reason  has  two  degrees :  reason  in  the  first  degree, 
wdiich  is  common  sense ;  which  looks  on  truth  at  once,  on 
contingent  truth  and  on  necessary  truth,  such  as  causation, 
which  reveals  power  in  cause ;  reason  in  the  second  degree, 
or  reasoning,  reaches  farther  truth  by  inference.  He 
stands  up  for  a  moral  power  which  discerns  moral  good. 
All  these  are  realities ;  we  know  them  by  cognitive 
powers.  ^ 

Kant  is  tlie  second  great  opponent  of  Hume  that  ap- 


EEALISM   IN   THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  21 

peared.  He  is  not  so  careful  an  observer  as  Reid,  but  lie 
is  a  more  powerful  logician.  His  philosophy  certainly  does 
not  start  with  Realism.  He  makes  the  mind  beg-in  with 
phenomena  in  the  sense  of  appearances,  and  not  with 
things.  In  this  respect  he  yielded  too  much  to  his  oppo- 
nent, starting,  in  fact,  with  the  sceptical  conclusion  which 
Hume  reached.  He  tried  therefrom  to  reach  realities, 
and  believed  in  the  reality  of  things,  but  it  is  generally 
acknowledged  that  he  utterly  failed  to  do  so.  ISTo  one  can 
legitimately  argue  real  things  from  phenomena  any  more 
than  he  can  from  impressions  and  ideas.  Secondly,  he  sup- 
poses that  the  mind,  out  of  its  own  stores,  superadds  forms 
to  the  phenomena  which  it  knows  :  such  as  space  and  time 
to  sense  ;  categories  such  as  that  of  cause  and  .  effect, 
twelve  in  all,  to  the  understanding;  and  ideas  such  as. 
those  of  substance,  conditions,  and  God  to  the  ideas  of  the 
pure  reason,  the  last  of  these  being  entirely  subjective.  In 
all  this  he  was  an  idealist,  and  prepared  the  way  for 
Fichte,  the  absolute  idealist. 

Kant  is  thus  at  one  and  the  same  time  an  agnostic  and 
idealist,  and  is  claimed  so  far  legitimately  by  the  support- 
ers of  both  systems.  He  is  an  agnostic  in  that  he  does 
not  allow  that  the  mind  perceives  things.  He  is  an  ideal- 
ist inasmuch  as  he  is  ever  clothing  phenomena  with  a 
subjective  covering.  Ever  since  his  day,  philosophy  has 
been  swinging  between  transcendentalism  and  agnosticism  ; 
between  the  transcendentalism  of  Hegel  and  the  agnosti- 
cism which  has  culminated  in  Herbert  Spencer. 

To  counteract  the  unbelief  of  the  speculative  reason, 
Kant  called  in  the  moral  or  practical  reason,  whose  law 
was  the  categorical  imperative  which  necessitates  a  belief 
in  responsibility,  in  a  judgment-day,  and  in  God — all  of 
which,  as  I  understand,  are  regarded  by  Kant  as  realities. 
But  it  has  been  seen  that,  after  having  made  so  many  con- 


22  GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

cessions  to  Hume  at  the  starting,  lie  is  not  in  a  favorable 
position  when  he  would  meet  Hume  by  establishing 
higher  truths.  He  is  right  in  giving  a  cognitive  power  to 
the  moral  reason,  but  he  should  have  given  a  like  power 
to  the  understanding,  and  this  would  have  made  his  sys- 
tem stable  and  consistent. 

Dugald  Stewart  was  the  most  eminent  disciple  of  Reid, 
and  a  judicious  defender  of  the  Scottish  school.  His 
philosophy  reads  as  if  it  were  thoroughly  realistic,  yet  it 
is  scarcely  so.  His  doctrine  is  that  we  do  not  know 
things,  but  the  qualities  of  things.  But  can  we,  from 
mere  qualities,  argue  the  existence  of  things  ?  The  proper 
statement  is  that  we  know  the  thing,  with  its  qualities. 
We  do  not  know  extension  apart  from  body  ;  we  know 
body  as  extended.  Stewart  stood  up  for  the  reality  of 
moral  qualities  and  man's  perception  of  them. 

Thomas  Brown  sought  to  unite  the  French  school  of 
his  day  with  the  Scottish,  in  which  he  had  been  trained. 
He  was  a  realist,  in  that  he  believed  in  an  external  world. 
But  he  got  it  by  inference,  and  thus  belongs  to  what  I  call 
the  Inferential  School.  There  are  first  sensations  in  the 
mind,  but  these  are  not  produced  by  anything  in  the  mind. 
However,  they  must  have  a  cause,  and  this  cause  must  be 
external,  that  is.  Matter.  I  am  not  sure  of  the  validity  of 
this  argument.  It  can  be  used  only  by  those  who,  with 
Brown,  hold  by  an  intuitive  conviction  as  to  causation. 
Without  this  it  would  be  difficult  for  the  infant  mind  to 
argue  from  these  sensations,  springing  up  apparently  so 
capriciously,  *  that  they  had  a  cause.  But  there  is  a 
stronger  argument  against  a  knowledge  of  Matter  being 
obtained  from  a  sensation.  We  always  apprehend  body 
as  extended,  but  we  can  never,  from  a  sensation  which 
is  not  extended,  argue  the  existence  of  body,  which  is  ex- 
tended.    He  held  that  the  virtues  were  a  class  of  emo- 


REALISM  IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  23 

tions,  and  thus  set  aside  that  perception  which  we  have 
of  good  and  evil. 

Coleridge  studied  the  German  philosophy  of  his  day, 
but  did  not  very  clearly  understand  it.  He  sought  to  in- 
troduce the  distinction  between  the  understanding  and  the 
reason,  but  it  cannot  be  carried  out  consecutively.  There 
is  an  intuitive  reason,  but  it  is  found  in  the  senses  and  the 
understanding,  discovering  realities  and  relations  among 
them.  His  grand  views  of  reason  had  an  elevating  influ- 
ence in  Great  Britain  and  in  America,  as  opposed  to  sen- 
sationalism. 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  as  became  a  knight,  was  a 
powerful  champion  of  what  he  believed  to  be  truth.  He 
is  professedly  the  most  determined  of  all  realists.  He 
has  defended  the  doctrine  more  clearly  than  any  other. 
He  shows  that  consciousness  testifies  in  behalf  of  the  im- 
mediate knowledge  both  of  mind  and  body.  But  unfor- 
tunately, as  I  think,  he  sought  to  unite  the  German  philos- 
ophy of  hiff  day  with  the  Scottish,  and  was  unable  to  make 
the  two  amalgamate.  The  two  philosophies  have  much 
in  common ;  both  hold  by  native  and  necessary  truth  ;  but 
the  former  reaches  it  by  criticism,  the  latter  by  a  careful 
observation  of  what  passes  in  the  mind. 

Hamilton  maintained  resolutely  that  the  mind  perceives 
Matter  directly,  but  that  this  knowledge  is  only  relative. 
He  maintains  that  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  we  know 
things  as  they  are  ;  we  add  elements  of  our  own  to  them. 
"  Suppose  that  the  total  object  of  consciousness  in  per- 
ception =  12,  and  suppose  that  the  external  reality  con- 
tributes 6,  the  material  sense  3,  and  the  mind  3  ;  this  may 
enable  you  to  form  some  rude  conjecture  of  the  nature  of 
perception."  Instead  of  being  the  great  realist,  as  he 
promised  to  be,  he  has  become  the  great  relativist,  and 
has  supplied  the  nescient  doctrine  from  which  Herbert 


24  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION. 

Spencer  starts.  That  doctrine  must  be  set  aside  if  Spen- 
cer is  to  be  answered.  Following  Hobbes  and  Locke,  he 
has  made  our  idea  of  infinity  negative.  There  is  surely 
something  more,  whether  we  are  able  to  express  it  or  not, 
in  our  belief  in  infinity.  He  is  constantly  calling  in  faith 
to  save  us  from  the  nescience  of  the  understanding,  but 
has  nowhere  explained  what  is  the  nature  and  province 
of  faith.  He  does  not  treat  specially  of  morals,  but  he 
regards  the  moral  argument  as  the  impregnable  one  for  the 
existence  of  God. 

John  S.  Mill  was  led  by  his  father,  James  Mill,  to 
adopt  many  of  the  principles  of  Hume,  and,  in  conse- 
quence, could  never  reach  reality.  His  philosophy,  in  its 
ultimate  issues,  is  scarcely  an  advance  on  Hume.  His 
definition  of  Matter  is  "  the  permanent  possibility  of  sen- 
sations ;  "  of  Mind,  "  a  series  of  feelings  aware  of  itself." 
The  one  of  these  sets  aside  the  testimony  of  the  senses, 
the  other  of  the  consciousness  and  memory,  all  of  which 
reveal  realities.  The  fame  of  Mr.  Mill  as  a  philosopher 
must  rest  not  on  his  metaphysics,  in  which  he  only  car- 
ries out  Hume's  principles,  but  on  his  logic  of  induction, 
in  which  he  has  given  a  completeness  to  the  logic  of 
Bacon. 

The  A  Priori  Philosophy  of  Germany.  "We  have 
seen  that  Kant  introduced  a  powerful  ideal  element  into 
philosophy  in  his  forms  of  sense,  understanding,  and  rea- 
son, under  which  the  mind  views  all  phenomena.  Fichte, 
Schelling,  and  Hegel  seized  one  after  the  other  on  this 
element,  and. have  constructed  huge  systems  by  keen  dia- 
lectic processes.  They  were  men  of  powerful  speculative 
ability,  acquainted  with  all  the  forms  of  logic,  and  have 
reared  imposing  structures  with  a  symmetry  which  we  are 
constraii^d  to  admire.  They  have  elements  of  truth  in 
their  theories  (every  imagination  is  formed  of  actualities), 


REALISM  IN   THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  25 

but  the  whole  is  as  fictitious  as  the  clouds  of  the  sky,  often 
so  massive  and  apparently  solid. 

Fichte  is  the  representative  idealist  of  modern  times. 
He  liad  for  a  time  been  a  pupil  of  Kant,  who  in  the  end 
disowned  him,  because  he  carried  out  the  principles  of  his 
master  to  consequences  which  the  master  did  not  contem- 
plate. Kant  made  space  and  time,  our  deeper  judgments 
and  higher  ideas,  subjective,  vainly  arguing  all  the  while 
that  there  were  things.  Fichte  made  the  things  subject- 
ive as  well  as  the  forms  in  which  they  are  clothed  ;  all 
are  projections  of  the  mind,  which  posits  them  according 
to  laws  of  development  which  he  can  unfold  out  of  his 
own  mind  or  brain.  If  the  mind  can  create  time  and 
space,  as  Kant  holds,  why  not  all  else,  including  God? 
He  had  an  ego  and  a  self-consciousness,  which  he  made 
universal.  This  ego  posits  tlie  non-ego,  and  is  the  abso- 
lute reality.  There  is  nothing  corresponding  to  this  in 
my  consciousness  nor  in  any  other  body's.  He  guaran- 
teed it  by  a  kind  of  faith  which  is  not  explained.  Specu- 
lation could  not  remain  at  the  place  where  Fichte  left 
it. 

ScJielling  sought  to  supply  an  evident  defect  in  the 
philosophy  of  Fichte.  Fichte  made  all  subjective.  Schel- 
ling  placed  the  objective  alongside  of  it.  He  had  an  ego, 
and  also  a  non-ego,  but  he  made  both  subjective  and  the 
two  identical.  Hence  his  philosophy  is  called  that  of 
identity.  All  this  is  supposed  to  be  perceived  and  guar- 
anteed by  an  intellectual  intuition  to  which  there  is  noth- 
ing corresponding  in  human  consciousness.  It  has  been 
subjected  to  a  terrible  criticism  by  Hamilton.  To  me 
there  is  an  essential  difference  between  things,  say  between 
pleasure  and  pain,  moral  good  and  evil. 

Hegel.  I  am  not  competent  to  enter  into  a  wrestling 
match  with  this  gigantic  dialectician.     When  I  have  ven- 


26  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION. 

tured  on  rare  occasions  to  criticise  him,  I  have  been  told 
that  I  do  not  understand  him,  and  probably  this  is  true. 
There  is  a  story  told  of  his  saying,  "  Only  one  man  under- 
stands me,  and  he  does  not."  It  is  not  proven  that  Hegel 
ever  actually  said  this,  but  he  might  have  said  it,  and  the 
story  has  been  invented  by  one  who  knew  what  Hegel's 
philosophy  was.  On  several  occasions  I  have  made  an 
earnest  endeavor  to  understand  him.  I  am  certainly  not 
the  individual  who  understands  him,  and  yet  I  so  far  un- 
derstand him.  I  understand  that  his  method  is  not  the 
inductive,  which  observes  what  takes  place  in  the  mind. 
It  proceeds  upon  the  idealistic  element  in  Kant's  philoso- 
phy, as  carried  out  by  Fichte  and  Schelling,  but  subjects 
it  to  a  process  which  is  declared  to  be  rational  and  logical. 
But  my  reason  is  not  prepared  to  sanction  the  processes 
which  he  elaborates.  His  logic  is  certainly  not  that  of 
Aristotle,  who  gives  us,  I  believe,  a  correct  analysis  of  the 
discursive  processes  of  the  mind.  He  and  his  followers 
have  drawn  out  innumerable  triplet  divisions  on  all  sub- 
jects— which  they  identify  with  the  Scripture  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity — by  seizing  on  a  quality,  putting  in  one 
class  all  objects  that  have  it,  in  another  class  all  which 
do  not  have  it,  and  in  a  third  class  what  is  indifferent ; 
all  this  without  inquiring  whether  there  are  such  divis- 
ions in  nature.  He  finds  perpetual  contradictions  where 
I  can  find  none,  but  simply,  it  may  be,  mysteries  ;  but 
where  there  are  real  contradictions  I  am  sure  that  they 
cannot  both  be  true,  as  Hegel  maintains  ;  the  truth  of 
the  one  implies  the  falsehood  of  the  other.  As  seeking 
to  embrace  all  in  his  comprehensive  system,  he  holds 
that  it  is  realistic  as  well  as  idealistic,  and  claims  to  have 
reached  a  Realism  not  found  in  Kant.  But  his  Real- 
ism does  not  consist  in  bodies  or  in  self,  as  perceived  by 
the  senses  external  and  internal,  but  simply  in  the  dia- 


REALISM    IN   THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  ^ 

lectic  process  constructed  by  his  own  powerful  under- 
standing. 

Herbert  Spencer  is  possessed  of  a  comprehensive  specu- 
lative intellect,  like  Hegel,  the  difference  being  that  the 
one  deals  with  the  development  of  nature,  the  other  with 
the  development  of  thought.  The  one  is  the  representa- 
tive of  the  agnostics,  as  the  other  is  of  the  idealists,  of  our 
day.  According  to  Spencer,  we  do  not  know  the  nature 
or  reality  of  the  things  within  or  around  us.  But  by  a 
necessity  of  thought  we  are  constrained  to  believe  in  the 
reality  of  a-  thing  beyond  the  sensible  world,  which  thing 
is  unknown  and  unknowable.  But  surely  I  know  that  I 
exist,  and  so  much  of  my  nature  and  of  the  things  around 
me.  I  am  not  sure  of  the  validity  of  the  argument  by 
which  he  proves  that  there  is  this  unknown  thing.  I  do 
not  feel  as  if  I  had  an  intuition  to  this  effect.  I  believe 
that  I  have  an  intuition  or  intuitions  which  carry  me  be- 
yond sensible  things,  but  Mr.  Spencer  has  not  interpreted 
them  rightly.  I  am  sure  that  from  these  existing  things 
which  I  know,  the  self  and  the  related  objects,  I  can  legit- 
imately argue  other  things  as  their  causes,  and  in  particu- 
lar that  there  must  be  a  Cause  of  the  order  and  purpose  I 
discover  in  the  universe,  and  that  this  Cause  is  known  so 
far  from  its  effects  to  be  intelligent  and  benevolent — all  of 
which  are  real. 

It  turns  out  that  this  unknown  and  unknowable  reality 
is  so  far  known  by  Mr.  Spencer.  He  knows  it  as  a  force, 
a  power,  or  cause,  and  as  without  limit.  "  The  belief  in  a 
power  of  which  no  limit  in  time  or  space  can  be  conceived 
is  that  fundamental  element  in  religion  which  survives  all 
changes  of  form."  All  this  seems  to  me  to  point  clearly  and 
explicitly  to  a  God,  unknown  in  his  total  being,  but  so  far 
known  and  having  a  relation  to  us.  But  the  Real  known 
to  Mr.  Spencer  is  very  scanty.     It  is,  first,  the  unknown 


28  GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

thing  necessitated  by  thought,  and,  secondly,  the  develop- 
ment of  the  things  which  he  represents  as  unknown,  but 
which  I  regard  as  known. 

Lotze,  in  his  metaphysics^  is  so  far  a  reaction  against  the 
Idealism  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel.  I  am  happy  to 
find  that  his  search  is  the  old  Greek  one  for  the  Real.  I 
am  not  sure  that  he  always  finds  it  and  expresses  it  cor- 
rectly. He  seems  to  me  sometimes  to  add  to  it,  and  it  be- 
comes ideal ;  at  other  times  to  take  from  it,  when  it  be- 
comes so  far  sceptical.  He  is  liable  to  the  same  charge  as 
I  have  brought  against  the  Eleatics  ;  he  saj^s  too  much 
about  such  simple  objects  as  Existence,  Being,  and  Real. 

All  that  philosophy  can  do  is  to  discover  and  express 
what  intuition  reveals  as  to  things.  "When  it  goes  beyond 
this  it  is  apt  to  make  assertions  which  have  no  meaning,  or 
which  cannot  be  proven,  or,  we  may  add,  disproven,  or 
which  cannot  be  proven  except  by  induction. 

He  makes  space  and  time  subjective,  with  no  objective 
existence,  on  somewhat  different  grounds  from  Kant,  but 
leading  to  the  same  issues.  He  certainly  proves  that  we 
are  not  obliged  to  give  them  an  independent  existence,  but 
surely  they  have  some  kind  of  existence,  according  to  our 
intuitive  perception. 

He  believes  in  body  and  in  soul.  He  acknowledges  the 
reality  of  force,  and  has  important  remarks  as  toits.nature, 
but  raises  questions  which  can  be  settled  only  by  induc- 
tion. He  believes  in  self -judging  conscience.  It  is  an  en- 
couraging circumstance  to  find  the  German  philosophy 
seeking  the  Real,  instead  of  constructing  ideal  systems. 

I  am  deeply  sensible  of  the  imperfections  of  this  account 
of  the  various  philosophies.  Enough  has  been  advanced 
to  show  ti^at  there  is  an  avowed  or  latent  Realism  running 
through  nearly  all  of  them.     But  in  the  majority  of  cases 


EEALISM   IN  THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  29 

it  Is  in  a  raw  and  undigested  form,  with  excrescences  on 
the  one  hand  and  deficiencies  on  the  other.  What  is 
needed  is  to  cut  off  the  one  and  supply  tlie  other.  When 
this  is  done  we  shall  have  a  discriminate  Realism. 

In  order  to  do  this  certain  distinctions  have  to  be  drawn. 
I  have  stated  them  elsewhere/  but  they  need  to  be  kept 
steadily  before  the  view  in  all  philosophic  inquiry.  There 
is  the  distinction  between  our  sensations,  which  are  organic 
feelings,  and  our  perceptions,  which  are  cognitions.  We 
should  stand  up  for  the  knowledge  given  in  perception,  but 
are  not  bound  to  hold  to  the  objective  reality  of  the  feel- 
ings. Special  importance  should  be  attached  to  the  dis- 
tinction between  our  original  and  acquired  perceptions. 
The  former  are  trustworthy,  having  the  sanction  of  our 
constitution  and  the  God  who  gave  it  to  us  ;  but  our  infer- 
ences from  these  and  our  added  associations  may  be  erro- 
neous and  misleading.  Thirdly,  there  is  the  well-known 
distinction  (often  improperly  stated)  between  the  primary 
and  secondary  qualities  of  Matter.  We  know  Matter  as 
extended  directly ;  we  know  heat,  which  is  molecular  mo- 
tion, merely  as  the  cause  of  the  sensations  in  our  nerves. 
For  our  present  purpose  there  is  a  more  important  dis- 
tinction. It  is  that  between  the  realities  given  by  sense 
and  those  discerned  by  a  higher  power,  such  as  moral 
qualities.  Both  are  real,  but  they  are  different  things. 
Drawing  such  distinctions,  we  are  able  to  cast  aside  mere 
appearances  and  irrelevances,  and  keep  firm  hold  of  a 
Realism  or  knowledge  of  things  which  may  be  implicitly 
trusted. 

I  do  not  expect  that  this,  our  method  of  philosophy,  will 
meet  with  an  immediate  approval.  On  the  one  hand,  it 
will  be  opposed  (when  it  is  not  ignored)  by  the  prevailing 

^  Psychology,  tlie  Cognitive  Powers,  pp.  37-30. 


30  GENEKAL  INTRODUCTION. 

ideal  schools  of  Germany,  which  have  ramified  from  Kant. 
On  the  otlier  hand,  it  will  be  resisted  by  all  who  have  come 
within  the  grasp  of  Herbert  Spencer.' 

American  and,  I  may  add,  British  students,  who  have  a 
taste  for  metaphysical  speculation,  after  taking  a  degree 
in  their  own  country,  commonly  go  for  a  year  or  two  to  a 
German  university.  The  philosophy  which  they  had  been 
taught  at  home  had  more  or  less  in  it  of  the  Eealism  of 
the  British  schools.  In  Germany  they  are  involved,  with- 
out introduction,  in  the  forms  and  distinctions  of  Kant 
and  then  in  the  dialectics  of  Hegel,  all  with  an  idealistic 
tendency,  and  they  soon  find  themselves  in  a  labyrinth 
without  a  clew  to  guide  them  out.  Some  of  them  remain 
for  a  time  in  Germany,  caught  in  the  toils  of  the  profound 
systems,  and  then  return  to  their  own  country  to  expound 
them  in  formidable  language  to  students  who  wonder  and 
admire,  but  are  not  sure  whether  the  tenets  taught  are  as 
true  as  they  are  sublime.  Others  return  sooner,  Muth  an 
incongruous  mixture  of  Realism  and  Idealism,  which, 
though  they  do  not  see  it,  will  not  amalgamate,  and  it  is 
ludicrous  to  observe  in  their  writings  and  lectures  one  para- 
graph British  and  American,  marked  by  good  sense,  and 
the  next  Kantian  criticism,  and  the  third  Hegelian  dia- 
lectic, without  their  discovering  the  inconsistency.  It  is 
clear  to  me  that  such  modes  of  philosophy  will  not  lead 
and  guide  so  shrewd  and  practical  a  people  as  the  Ameri- 
cans. 

But  it  is  asked.  Are  we  unmercifully  to  cut  off  every 
form  of  Idealism  ?     It  is  urged  that  we  may  commit  the 


*  A  friend  told  ns  impiously  that  we  are  certain  to  be  crucified  be- 
tween two  malefactors,  to  which  our  reply  was,  that  the  two  extremes 
would  die  and  never  be  heard  of  again,  while  the  power  between  would 
rise  again  with  greater  influence. 


EEALISM   IN   THE   PHILOSOPHIES.  31 

same  mistakes  in  philosophy  as  a  modern  realistic  school 
in  art  does  when  it  exhibits  objects  so  bare  and  haggard — 
skull  and  bones,  wounds  and  sores — as  to  make  them  un- 
attractive, at  times  horrid.  Some  feel  that  if  w^e  proceed 
in  this  w^av  we  are  abneojatino-  all  that  is  interestino;  in 
speculation.  Upon  this  I  have  to  remark  that  under  Real- 
ism the  speculative  intellect  is  allowed  to  discuss  all  man- 
ner of  subjects,  but  its  first  and  its  final  aim  should  be  out 
of  these  to  construct  a  philosophy.  When  it  has  done  so, 
it  may  wander  as  widely  as  its  feet  can  carry  it,  and  mount 
as  high  as  the  air  will  bear  it  up ;  but  let  it  know  and  ac- 
knowledge, all  the  while,  the  difference  between  air  and 
earth,  and  ever  be  prepared  to  settle  on  terra  firma.  It 
will  be  proper  to  continue  the  discussion  as  to  the  atomic 
and  monadic  theories,  as  to  a  priori  and  a  posteriori  ideas, 
the  relative  and  the  absolute,  and  a  hundred  other  topics, 
but  it  has  now  a  test  by  which  to  try  all  hypotheses — Do 
they  agree  wdth  facts  ?  The  vessel  may  sail  over  a  wide 
ocean,  but  it  should  always  start  from  land  and  seek  land ; 
go  out  from  a  harbor  and  keep  it  in  view  to  reach  a  haven. 
Realism  may  be  defended  on  several  grounds,  not  in- 
dependent of  each  other,  but  conspiring  to  one  end. 

1.  It  is  w^hat  we  spontaneously  accept.  AYe  are  sure  we 
know  realities ;  we  seek  for  them,  we  cling  to  them,  we 
follow  them,  w^e  are  not  satisfied  with  anything  less,  or, 
indeed,  with  anything  else.  AYithout  this  we  feel  that 
there  is  something  wanting ;  with  this  we  feel  satisfied  so 
far  as  the  object  is  concerned. 

2.  Everything  falls  in  with  it  and  confirms  it.  We  start 
with  it  as  a  natural  assumption,  but  w^e  find  it  corrobo- 
rated by  all  that  is  occurring.  We  remember  a  hill  of  a 
marked  shape  on  which  our  eye  rested  in  our  childhood, 
and  we  are  sure  that  there  was  such  a  hill ;  after  being 
years  away,  we  go  back  to  the  same  place  and  find  the  same 


^^  GENERAL  INTEODTJCTION-. 

hill.  "This  may  be  taken  as  an  example  of  the  corrobora- 
tions which  the  realist  is  ever  meeting  with. 

3.  Eealism  as  an  hypothesis  explains  every  phenomenon 
more  satisfactorily  than  any  other  system.  This  is  a  mode 
of  testing  the  truth  of  a  theory  often  resorted  to  in  the 
present  day.  In  the  first  instance,  we  accept  the  opinion 
advanced  simply  as  an  hypothesis,  and  then  inquire  if  it  can 
explain  the  facts.  I  believe  that  Realism,  as  a  theory,  can  ex- 
plain the  facts  more  satisfactorily  than  Scepticism  or  Ideal- 
ism. Scepticism,  total  or  partial,  will  ever  be  confronted 
with  facts  which  it  cannot  but  believe.  Idealism  will  ever 
feel  itself  floating  insecurely  in  the  air,  as  long  as  it  has 
not  a  pillar  in  facts  to  which  to  attach  itself.  The  foun- 
dation of  Eealism  is  fact,  facts  are  its  superstructure,  and 
its  copestone  is  a  fact,  and  thus  it  stands  firm  while  other 
systems  totter  and  fall.  There  may  be  problems  which  it 
cannot  solve,  mysteries  which  it  cannot  clear  up;  it  will 
leave  them  in  that  state  for  the  present,  and  wait  patiently 
till  they  are  elucidated,  which  must  always  be  done  by 
other  facts. 

In  this  final  philosophy  all  that  is  established  in  the  pre- 
vious philosophies  will  be  embraced.  But  this  will  not  be 
in  the  usual  eclectic  way,  by  a  mere  agglomeration  of  sys- 
tems. It  is  not  the  crude  Realism  of  the  first  thinkers. 
It  lias  attended  to  Bacon's  counsel  and  made  "  the  neces- 
sary rejections  and  exclusions."  It  believes  that  there  is 
gold,  but  not  that  all  that  glitters  is  gold.  It  finds  the 
true  gold,  by  casting  out  the  dross.  This  test  is  the  mag- 
net which,  leaving  out  everything  else,  will  attract  and 
collect  the  true  metal.  The  product  will  be  consistent  be- 
cause of  the  consistency  of  truth. 

The  philosophy  expounded  in  this  article  is  Eclectic,  but 
merely  in^that  it  accepts  the  reality  from  all  systems.  It 
is  Greek,  in  that  it  seeks  after  things  in  their  true  nature. 


EEALISM   IN  THE  PHILOSOPHIES.  33 

It  is  Scottish,  in  tliat  it  proceeds  bj  induction  and  by  it 
discovers  fundamental  truth.  It  is  German,  in  that  it 
stands  up  for  a  priori  truth,  but  does  not  seek  it,  like  Kant 
or  Hegel,  by  the  critical  or  dialectic  method.  It  is  French, 
in  that  it  is  a  judicious  reduction  of  other  systems.  Sooner 
or  later — the  sooner  the  better — we  must  fall  back  upon, 
or,  rather,  advance  forward  to,  this  method.  I  confess 
that  I  wish  that  America,  which  has  no  special  philosophy, 
should  favor  and  fashion  it,  and  make  it  its  own.  It  is 
altogether  in  the  way  of  what  it  has  done  in  a  scattered 
manner  in  the  past,  and  should  now  do  in  a  systematic 
method. 

Vol.  n.— 3 


LOCKE'S  THEORY  OF  KNOWLEDGE,  WITH 
A  NOTICE  OF  BERKELEY 


INTRODUGTIOm 


DIVEKS   ASPECTS  OF   FIEST  PRINCIPLES. 

The  aim  of  this  Part  of  the  Philosophic  Series  is  to  treat 
historically  the  chief  topics  which  have  been  discussed  dia- 
lectically  in  the  previous  Numbers.  The  special  doctrine  to 
be  thus  illustrated  is  that  of  first  principles.  The  discus- 
sion on  this  subject  began  with  Locke's  denial  of  Innate 
Ideas  in  the  First  Book  of  his  Essay  on  Human  Under- 
standing, published  in  1690,  and  has  been  continued  ever 
since,  particularly  by  such  original  writers  as  Hume,  Kant, 
and  Herbert  Spencer.  Our  work  would  be  incomplete 
without  a  historical  and  critical  review  of  these  leaders  of 
thought.  All  of  them  have  exposed  prevailing  errors, 
and  all  of  them  have  caught  glimpses  of  important  truth  ; 
I  have  to  add  that  all  of  them  have  promulgated  seri- 
ous error.  Can  we  by  any  magnetic  process  draw  out  the 
pure  metal  and  allow  the  dross  to  sink  ? 

Our  notices  will  be  critical  as  well  as  historical.  But  in 
criticism  there  are  always  principles  involved,  and  these 
ought  always  to  be  formally  stated,  that  all  may  perceive 
the  ground  proceeded  on,  and  be  able  to  sit  in  judgment 
on  the  critic.  This  I  propose  to  do  in  this  Introductory 
Section. 

Believing  as  I  do  in  first  truths,  I  am  convinced  that 


38  GENEEAL  INTRODTTCTION. 

there  has  been  confusion  in  the  account  given  of  them,  and 
consequent  errors  in  the  conckisions  drawn.  Much  clear- 
ness may  be  imparted  by  attending  to  certain  distinctions 
which  I  would  thus  illustrate.  If  we  are  considering  the 
subject  of  gravitation,  we  may  look  first  at  it  in  its  actual 
operations  as  seen  by  the  senses,  say,  in  a  body  falling  to 
the  ground  ;  secondly,  as  a  deep  law  in  the  very  nature  of 
bodies  ;  and  thirdly,  the  expression  of  that  law  by  ]^ew- 
ton.  We  may  in  like  manner,  in  inquiring  into  a  funda- 
mental law  of  the  human  mind,  regard  first  its  actual 
operations  falling  under  the  eye  of  consciousness,  say, 
when  on  noticing  an  effect  we  look  for  a  cause ;  secondly, 
the  law  in  the  mind  which  is  followed  ;  and  thirdly,  the 
axiomatic  form  taken  by  that  law,  that  everything  which 
begins  to  be  has  a  cause.  The  errors  committed  by  the 
defenders  of  primary  principles  have  almost  all  arisen 
from  overlooking  this  threefold  distinction.  There  is  a 
fourth  principle  which  needs  to  be  brought  into  promi- 
nence in  the  present  day,  when  it  is  so  much  overlooked, 
namely,  that  all  intuitions  look  at  things,  and  that  this 
should  be  expressed  in  the  form  which  the  generalized  law 
takes. 

I.  Our  intuitions  appear  as  Perceptions.  We  perceive 
self  in  a  certain  state.  We  perceive  external  objects  as 
affecting  us  and  resisting  our  energy.  We  perceive  re- 
lations between  things  as  that  this  quality  implies  a  sub- 
stance— say,  this  weight  implies  a  heavy  body  ;  that  this 
effect,  say  a  house  on  fire,  implies  a  cause ;  and  that 
this  thing  A,  being  equal  to  B,  which  is  equal  to  a  third 
thing,  C,  is  also  equal  to  C.  We  have  also  moral  percep- 
tions, as  that  this  deceitful  act  is  wrong  and  deserves 
punishment.  Under  this  aspect  our  primary  truths  are 
before  they  eye  of  consciousness.  Locke  is  right,  so  far  as 
these  are  concerned,  in  denying  that  they  are  innate  ;  they 


DIFFEEENT  ASPECTS   OF   INTUITIONS.  39 

come  forth  only  when  the  mind  begins  to  act.  Primi- 
tively they  are  all  singular.  There  is  a  subsequent  pro- 
cess involved  in  drawing  the  general  law  out  of  them. 

II.  Underneath  these  perceptions  are  Regulative  Prin- 
ciples. These  are  not  before  the  consciousness  any  more 
than  the  law  of  gravitation  is  before  the  senses.  The 
bodily  eye  sees  an  apple  fall  to  the  ground,  but  does  not 
see  the  law  of  universal  gravitation  which  all  the  while  is 
acting.  Just  as  little  does  the  internal  eye  see  directly 
the  fundamental  laws  of  thought  or  belief.  They  are  in 
the  mind  and  deeply  seated  there,  just  as  the  power  of 
gravitation  is  seated  in  matter.  They  constrain  us  to  be- 
lieve in  our  personal  identity ;  that  it  is  impossible  for  the 
boy  to  eat  his  apple  and  yet  have  his  apple  preserved  to 
him ;  that  every  occurrence  has  a  cause,  and  that  hypoc- 
risy is  to  be  condemned.  These  principles  may  be  said  to 
be  innate  (and  Locke  is  wrong  when  he  denies  this),  for 
they  are  in  the  mind  when  it  begins  to  act.  They  are  in 
our  very  nature  and  constitution,  and  are  often  so  appealed 
to  by  Bishop  Butler  and  the  Scottish  School  of  Meta- 
physicians. On  the  supposition  that  there  is  a  God  who 
made  us  and  gave  us  our  endowments,  they  have  the 
sanction  of  God  and  can  plead  his  authority  in  behalf  of 
their  decisions.  They  are  in  our  nature  and  founded  on 
the  Divine  nature. 

III.  They  may  be  generalized  into  Peimitive  Laws  or 
Axioms.  They  are  thus  formed  by  a  discursive  process 
out  of  the  primitive  perceptions,  just  as  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation is  formed  by  generalizing  its  individual  operations. 
We  perceive  that  we  are  the  same  person  to-day  that  we 
were  yesterday,  and  that  we  are  the  same  to-day  as  we 
were  a  week  ago,  or  a  year  ago,  and  thus  reach  the  law, 
that  we  always  carry  with  us  an  identity.  We  perceive 
that  this  effect  has  a  cause,  and  that  we  would  declare  of 


40  GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

every  other  effect  that  it  has  a  cause,  and  thus  lay  down 
the  rule  that  every  effect  has  a  cause. 

Our  primitive  perceptions  are  varied  and  are  innumer- 
able. We  have  such  perceptions  every  hour,  I  might 
almost  say  every  minute,  of  pur  waking  existence.  We 
seem  continually  to  have  a  consciousness  of  self  and  of 
body  as  affecting  self,  say,  of  the  ground  we  stand  on,  of 
the  chair  we  sit  on,  of  the  air  we  breathe.  But  as  to  the 
great  body  of  them  we  are  not  at  the  trouble  to  form  them 
into  general  laws.  As  being  generated  by  regulative  prin- 
ciples without  our  noticing  them,  we  act  according  to  them 
without  being  at  the  trouble  to  form  them  into  laws  ;  in- 
deed, we  do  not  so  construct  them  except  for  certain  pur- 
poses, only,  in  fact,  for  scientific,  but  especially  for  meta- 
physical ends.  While  constantly  employed,  they  are  not 
usually  before  the  mind  as  laws,  any  more  than  the  law  of 
gravity  is  before  the  mind  when  we  drop  a  hot  body  from 
our  hand  expecting  that  it  will  fall. 

It  is  in  the  formation  of  these  laws  that  error  may 
come  in.  There  is  no  error  in  our  primitive  regulating 
principles ;  they  have  the  sanction  of  our  constitution  and 
of  God.  There  will  be  no  error  even  in  our  primitive 
perceptions  so  far  as  they  are  primitive,  and  unless  we  mix 
up  prejudices  with  them.  But  there  may  be  mistakes  in 
the  generalized  axioms  that  we  construct.  There  are  apt 
to  be  mistakes  because  of  the  complication  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  mind,  and  because  we  mix  up  derivative 
truths  and  reasonings  of  our  own  with  the  primary  truths. 
It  is  from  this  cause  that  there  are  so  many  disputes  in 
metaphysics,  and  whenever  there  are  disputes  there  must 
be  error,  at  least  on  one  of  the  sides,  perfiaps  in  both.  We 
make  hasty  generalizations,  and  then  claim  for  them  the 
author! tj\  of  reason  and  of  God.  People  say  in  their  haste 
that  every  thing  has  a  cause,  and  are  led  to  draw  back 


DIFFERENT  ASPECTS  OF  INTUITIONS.  41 

only  when  they  discover  that  this  would  compel  them  to 
hold  that  God  has  a  cause ;  when,  discovering  that  they 
have  committed  a  mistake,  they  put  the  maxim  in  a  more 
correct  form,  that  every  thing  which  begins  to  be  has  a 
cause.  It  is  only  by  a  very  careful  observation,  along  with 
what  Bacon  calls  "  the  necessary  rejections  and  exclusions," 
that  we  are  able  from  the  singular  and  concrete  operations 
to  enunciate  precisely  the  general  law  which  is  the  ex- 
pression of  the  regulative  principle.  But  it  is  possible,  by 
exceedingly  careful  inspection,  to  get  the  general  from 
the  singular,  and  to  express  it  accurately,  and  when  we  do 
so  we  have  a  genuine  metaphysical  philosophy. 

I  believe  that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  confusion 
and  error  on  the  subject  of  primary  or  fundamental  truth 
arises  from  overlooking  these  distinctions.  Those  defend- 
ing them  make  assertions,  regarding  them  under  one,  which 
hold  true  of  them  only  under  another  aspect.  Those  at- 
tacking them  succeed  in  making  a  plausible  statement  only 
by  exposing  them  under  one  of  these  sides.  Descartes, 
in  standing  so  resolutely  by  them,  contemplates  them 
mainly  as  faculties  or  powers  lying  deeply  in  the  mind,  in 
short,  as  regulative  principles.  "  Lorsque  je  dis  que  quelque 
idee  est  nee  avec  nous,  ou  qu'elle  est  naturellement  em- 
preinte  en  nos  ames,  je  n'entends  pas  qu'elle  se  presente 
toujours  a  notre  pensee,  car  ainsi  il  n'y  en  aurait  aucune ; 
mais  j'entends  seulement  que  nous  avons  en  nous-memes 
la  faculte  de  la  produire."  {Trois  objec,  Eep.  Obj.  10.) 
Locke,  in  opposing  them  as  ideas  or  perceptions  in  con- 
sciousness, succeeded  in  showing  that  these  are  not  in- 
nate. Kant,  in  calling  them  ajpriori  principles,  views  them 
as  regulative  principles  in  the  mind.  Those  who  oppose 
him  show  that  the  conscious  perceptions  are  not  a  priori  in 
the  mind.  In  these  historical  papers  I  hope  to  show,  as  to 
the  authors  criticised,  what  were  the  aspects  they  looked 


43  GENERAL  INTEODUCTION. 

at,  and  what  those  overlooked.  In  this  way  I  hope  on 
the  one  hand,  to  introduce  clearness  into  a  subject  which 
has  become  so  confused,  and  on  the  other  hand,  to  give 
such  an  account  of  the  constituent  principles  of  the  mind, 
as  to  remove  the  prejudices  which  have  been  entertained 
against  them,  and  recommend  them  to  candid  minds. 

Under  the  First  of  these  Aspects  thej  have  been  called 
Primitive  Perceptions,  Intuitions,  Instincts,  and  Cognitions. 

Under  the  Second  Aspect  thej  have  been  described  as 
"  native  laws,"  "  fundamental  laws  of  thought,"  "  forms." 
Plato  (Pep.,  vii.,  51)  called  it  vorjro^  totto?.  Aristotle  (De 
Anim.,  iii.,  4),  adopts  the  view  but  modifies  it,  saying  it  is 
right,  provided  it  be  limited  to  the  noetic  power  and  the 
forms  be  represented  as  not  in  readiness  for  action,  but  in 
capacity,  not  eVreXe^eta,  but  hwdfiei. 

Under  the  Third  Aspect  they  have  been  called  Koival 
ewoiai,  irpcbrac  evvocav,  Trpcora  voij/juara,  naturae  judicia,  a 
j^WoH  notions,  definitions,  maxims,  axioms.' 

lY.  Our  intuitions  or  primitive  perceptions  look  at 
THINGS.  This  is  a  point  to  be  especially  emphasized  in  the 
present  day.  It  has  been  overlooked  because  of  "the  al- 
most universal  prevalence  of  an  erroneous  metaphysical 
principle.  It  has  been  taken  for  granted  commonly,  with- 
out being  positively  asserted,  that  the  mind  can  be  cog- 
nizant, at  least  directly,  only  of  itself.  Locke,  as  we  shall 
see,  made  it  percipient  only  of  its  ideas,  though  he  was 
apt  to  identify  his  ideas  with  things.  Hume  made  all 
human  knowledge  consist  of  impressions  and  ideas  without 
a  mind  to  perceive  or  an  object  to  be  perceived.  Kant,  in 
answering  Hume,  started  with  assuming  only  presenta- 
tions which  he  called  phenomena,  and  labored  from  these 
to  get  real  things,  but  without  succeeding — as  I  believe 

'  See  Intuitions  of  the  Mind,  P.  I.,  b.  ii.,  s.  3. 


DIFFEEENT   ASPECTS   OF   INTUITIONS.  43 

every  one  now  acknowledges.  The  time  has  come  for 
formally  abandoning  this  pliilosophic  heresy.  We  should 
assume  that  the  mind  knows  things ;  not  appearances,  but 
things  appearing.  Appearances  necessarily  presuppose 
things  appearing — even  an  image  in  a  mirror  implies  a  re- 
flecting surface  and  rays  reflected.  In  the  very  first  exer- 
cise of  our  faculties  we  look  at  things :  at  the  things  j^er- 
ceived  and  the  self  perceiving  them.  It  is  a  fact  that  we 
regard  the  colored  surface  before  us,  and  the  resisting 
energy  in  it,  as  realities.  If  we  deny  this  we  are  virtually 
declaring  that  we  cannot  trust  our  cognitive  powers,  or 
rather  that  we  have  no  cognitive  powers,  and  we  may  give 
up,  as  Hume  recommends,  all  philosophic  inquiry  and  at- 
tend merely  to  our  instinctive  and  acquired  cravings,  as  we 
have  no  means  of  reaching  positive  truth. 

It  is  a  favorite  mode  of  procedure  in  the  present  day  to 
assume  an  hj-pothesis  and  then  prove  it  to  be  true  by 
showing  that  it  accounts  for  every  thing  and  puts  it  in  the 
right  place.  The  hypothesis  that  we  know  realities  can 
stand  this  test ;  assume  it,  and  we  can  go  on  consistently 
and  find  corroborations  every  hoar,  nay,  every  minute. 
But  it  is  preposterous  to  make  reality  perceived  a  mere 
hypothesis ;  we  know  it  quite  as  certainly  as  the  hy- 
pothesis we  put  forward  to  explain  it,  or  the  supposed 
verifications.  It  is  pleasant  to  have  these,  but  they  do  not 
prove  the  known  fact. 

We  are  to  assume  that  we  know  self  and  not  self.  Pro- 
ceeding upon  these  we  have  other  primitive  perceptions. 
On  comparing  the  present  self  with  the  past  self  at  any 
given  time,  we  know  that  we  are  the  same.  We  know  of 
this  not-self  that  it  exists  independent  of  our  cognition  of 
it  and  exercises  energy.  As  to  many  of  our  primitive 
perceptions,  the  object  is  not  immediately  before  us.  This 
is  at  once  seen  to  be  the  case  with  the  two  perceptions  last 


44  GENERAL   INTROI)L'CTIOIf. 

named.  Thus,  when  1  perceive  that  1  am  the  same  per- 
son to-day  that  I  was  yesterday,  the  self  of  yesterday  is 
not  before  the  consciousness.  But  it  being  brought  before 
us  by  tlie  memory  we  contemplate  it,  and  then  pronounce 
the  judgment,  which  proceeds  on  the  remembered  fact. 
When  we  discover  an  effect,  a  thing  effected,  we  decide 
that  it  must  have  had  a  thing  causing  it.  This  is  the  case 
with  all  our  primitive  perceptions  of  relations  ;  we  perceive 
them  as  in  the  things  related. 

In  our  moral  perceptions  the  objects  are  not  before  us 
in  the  same  sense  as  the  self  and  not  self  are.  But  these 
perceptions  all  refer  to  things  contemplated.  It  is  upon 
an  act  of  cruelty,  believed  to  be  a  fact,  that  we  pronounce 
the  judgment  that  it  is  bad.  It  is  in  regard  to  a  deed  of 
self-sacrifice  and  benevolence  that  we  declare  it  to  be  good. 
The  act  may  not  be  before  our  senses,  it  may  be  far  dis- 
tant, or  it  may  be  long  past,  or  it  may  be  in  the  future, 
but  it  is  upon  the  act  supposed  to  have  happened  or  to  be 
about  to  happen,  that  the  judgment  is  formed. 

It  is  because  this  is  the  nature  of  our  primitive  percep- 
tions that  the  first  test  of  them  is  self -evidence.  Since 
the  days  of  Leibnitz,  and  especially  since  the  time  of  Kant, 
the  first  and  essential  criterion  of  primitive  truth  has 
been  commonly  regarded  as  necessity,  a  necessity  in  our 
nature  which  leads  us  to  know  or  decide  in  a  particular 
manner  that  a  quality  implies  a  substance,  that  charity  is 
good.  But  the  proper  statement  is,  not  that  an  object  is 
real  and  a  proposition  true  because.we  are  obliged  to  believe 
it,  but  we  are  obliged  to  believe  it  because  we  perceive 
the  thing  existing  and  the  quality  as  being  in  the  thing. 
The  true  mental  process  is  that  we  look  at  the  thing  and 
perceive  the  quality  in  the  thing ;  and  we  appreciate  the 
benevolent  action  as  in  its  very  nature  good. 


SECTION  I. 

1 

John  Locke  was  born  at  Wrington,  in  the  pleasant  fields 
of  Somersetshire,  August  29,  1632.  His  father  was  a 
lawyer  possessed  of  moderate  landed  property,  and  took 
part  in  the  great  parliamentary  and  non-conformist  up- 
heaval. He  exacted  great  respect  from  his  son  when  a 
child,  but  when  he  grew  up  allowed  him  greater  familiarity, 
a  practice  which  the  philosopher  recommends.  He  got  a 
place  on  the  foundation  of  the  famous  Westminster  school, 
and  was  there  trained  in  the  ordinary  classical  studies  of 
the  period.  In  1651  he  entered  Christ  Church,  Oxford 
(in  the  grounds  of  which  they  still  show  the  mulberry-tree 
which  he  planted),  and  there  he  was  a  diligent  student 
and  devoted  himself  specially  to  the  branches  requiring 
thought.  He  was  reared  amid  the  din  of  civil  war.  At 
school  he  must  have  heard  the  echoes  raised  by  the  execu- 
tion of  Charles  I.,  and  in  college  he  was  in  the  heart  of 
the  Royalist  and  Puritan  contests.  Like  Bacon,  two  ages 
earlier  at  Cambridge,  he  did  not  derive  much  satisfaction 
from  the  studies  pursued  at  college,  and  longed  for  new 
topics  and  a  fresher  mode  of  investigation.  He  did  not 
follow  any  profession  but  he  was  particularly  addicted  to 
the  study  of  medicine,  in  which  Sydenham,  the  eminent 
physician   of   his   day,  declares   that  he   acquired  great 

'  See  The  Life  of  Jolm  Locke,  by  Lord  King,  2  vols. ;  The  Life  of 
John  Locke,  by  H.  R.  Fox  Bourne,  2  vols.  ;  Locke,  by  Thomas  Fow- 
ler— the  last  giving  a  good  sketch  of  his  Life,  but  a  meagre  account  of 
his  philosophy. 


46  A  BEIEF  SKETCH   OF  LOCKE'S  LIFE. 

knowledge  and  skill.  He  gave  himself  by  turns  to  politics 
and  philosophy,  living  mainly  in  Oxford  and  pursuing  in- 
dependent studies  there.  In  1664,  during  the  Dutch  war, 
lie  accompanied  the  king's  envoy  to  the  Elector  of  Bran- 
denburg, and  has  left  a  graphic  picture  of  his  journey. 
In  1666,  being  called  in  to  give  medical  advice,  he  became 
acquainted  with  Lord  Ashley,  afterward  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
and  from  that  time  became  the  medical  adviser,  coun- 
sellor, and  friend  of  that  tortuous  statesman.  Henceforth 
his  life  is  partly  in  Oxford  and  partly  with  Shaftesbury, 
who  appointed  him  to  various  offices.  Though  very 
prudent  he  became  an  object  of  suspicion  to  the  Royal 
party,  and  Sunderland,  by  the  king's  command,  ordered 
his  expulsion.  He  was  not  expelled  but  deprived  of  his 
studentship  by  the  dean  and  chapter  of  the  college.  He 
retreated  from  this  strife  to  Holland,  where  he  read  and 
wrote  and  had  close  intercourse  with  a  number  of  eminent 
men  who  met  in  each  other's  hoiTses  for  discussion  ;  with  Le 
Clerc,  Guenilon,  the  physician,  with  Limborch,  and  with 
the  Remonstrant  or  Armenian  party,  to  whom  he  attached 
himself  rather  than  to  the  Calvinists.  The  Revolution  of 
1688  enabled  him  to  return  with  Queen  Mary  to  his  own 
country,  bringing  with  him  the  work  which  he  had  been 
pondering  for  years,  the  Essay  on  Human  Understand- 
ing. Now  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers  his  literary  ac- 
tivity was  very  great.  He  carried  on  an  extensive  corre- 
spondence, afterward  published,  on  philosophic  subjects 
with  his  admirer,  WiUiam  Molyneux,  of  Dublin,  who  in- 
troduced his  essay  into  Dublin  University,  where  it  held 
sway  down  to  the  second  quarter  of  this  century,  when  it 
gave  way  before  Kant.  He  carried  on  a  keen  controversy 
with  Stillingfleet,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  who  objected  to  his 
negativexaccdunt  of  substance  as  undermining  the  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity.     He  wrote  three  letters  on  Toleration^  on 


A  BRIEF   SKETCH  OF  LOCKE'S  LIFE.  47 

wliicli  his  views,  perhaps  derived  in  part  from  John  Owen, 
who  was  the  Yice-Chancellor  of  Oxford  when  Locke  was 
there,  were  very  liberal  for  his  day,  though  much  behind 
those  now  entertained ;  he  would  give  no  toleration  to 
atheists  or  papists.  In  a  constitution  which  he  drew  out 
for  Xorth  Carolina  he  allowed  hereditary  slavery  to  ex- 
ist. He  wrote  valuable  papers  on  Currency  and  Coin, 
In  1695  he  published  Essay  on  the  Beasonableness  of  Chris- 
tianity as  delivered  in  the  Scriptures.  He  wrote  a  Com- 
mentary consisting  of  paraphrases  and  notes  on  the  Epistles 
to  the  Galatians^  CorintMans^  Bomans,  and  Ephesians, 
together  with  An  Essay  for  the  Understanding  of  St 
PauVs  Ejnstles  hy  considting  St.  Paid  himself.  All  these 
are  written  in  a  reverent  spirit,  such  as  he  always  cher- 
ished toward  God  and  Scripture,  but  are  decidedly  ration- 
alistic. 

His  health  had  never  been  good,  and  latterly  became 
worse.  From  1691  he  resided  with  Sir  Francis  and  Lady 
Masham,  the  latter  a  daughter  of  Ealph  Cudworth,  the 
erudite  defender  of  the  older  philosophy  which  Locke  was 
now  undermining.  On  October  27,  1704,  he  told  Lady 
Masham  that  he  never  expected  to  rise  again  from  bed. 
He  thanked  God  he  had  passed  a  happy  life,  but  now  that 
he  found  all  was  vanity,  and  exhorted  her  to  consider  this 
world  as  a  preparation  for  a  better  state  hereafter.  Xext 
day  he  heard  Lady  Masham  read  the  Psalms,  apparently 
with  great  attention,  until  perceiving  his  end  to  draw  near 
he  stopped  her  and  expired  a  few  minutes  after,  in  his 
seventy-third  year. 

We  see  what  were  the  circumstances  in  wHich  he  was 
brought  up.  He  lived  when  the  Commons  were  limiting  the 
authority  of  the  crown  ;  when  the  Puritans  were  seeking  to 
tear  away  every  "  rag  of  popery  " ;  when  the  non-Conform- 
ists were  rebelling  against  church  authority,  and  the  Armin- 


48  A  BEIEF   SKETCH   OF  LOCKE's   LIFE. 

ians  were  softening  the  asperities  of  Calvinism.  When  he 
began  to  think  for  himself  the  ancient  logic  was  still  hold- 
ing its  place  in  the  universities  and  the  philosophy  was 
largely  analytic  and  deductive  and  couched  in  scholastic 
phrases.  But  a  spirit  was  abroad  fitted  to  break  all  this 
np  as  the  returning  sun  does  the  ice  in  spring.  The  stars 
in  the  sky  that  presided  over  his  birth  were  Bacon,  Des- 
cartes, Herbert  of  Cherbury,  Hobbes,  and  Gassendi.  All 
these  had  declared  more  or  less  distinctly  against  Aristotle, 
who  had  ruled  for  so  many  centuries,  and  were  introducing 
new  methods  of  inquiry.  Already  Harvey,  Boyle,  and 
Newton  were  successfully  prosecuting  the  observational 
method,  and  showing  how  rich  mines  of  wealth  it  had 
opened.  He  was  acquainted  with  the  writings  of  all  these 
men  ;  it  is  rather  a  curious  circumstance  that  he  seldom 
quotes  them,  but  of  all  things  he  is  resolute  in  preserving 
his  independence  and  following  a  course  of  his  own. 

His  characteristics  among  metaphysicians  were  his  sa- 
gacity and  independence,  tempered  with  good  sense.  He 
w^as  determined  to  look  beyond  appearances  into  the  reali- 
ties of  things.  Trained  in  an  ancient  university,  but  at  a 
time  when  the  old  was  passing  away,  educated  for  the 
bustling  profession  of  medicine,  mingling  constantly  with 
statesmen,  wdth  a  social  disposition  and  many  attached 
friends,  both  in  England  and  Holland,  he  had  a  large 
practical  acquaintance  with  human  nature  and  with  man- 
kind. He  is  bent  above  all  things  to  have  determinate  (to 
use  a  phrase  which  he  is  anxious  to  introduce  into  philoso- 
phy) opinions  of  his  own.  It  has  to  be  added  that  having 
formed,  by  long  observation  and  thought,  a  theory  on  a 
subject,  he  was  apt  to  carry  it  too  far  and  not  notice  the 
other  truths  by  w^hich  it  was  limited.  His  was  one  of 
those  greater  minds  which,  unlike  those  which  dwell  only 
on  differences,  are  disposed,  as  Bacon  describes  it,  to  fix 


HIS   CHAEACTEE.  49 

their  attention  exclusively  on  resemblances  to  the  neglect 
of  exceptions  and  so  form  hasty  generalizations. 

If  you  look  at  Locke's  portrait  you  have  a  good  idea 
of  his  character.  What  strikes  one  at  first  is  the  prom- 
inence of  the  bones ;  brow,  nose,  cheek,  and  chin  are  all 
marked  and  decided.  Our  attention  is  at  once  fixed  on 
these,  and  we  do  not  notice  the  flesh  or  softer  parts.  It 
is  a  type  of  his  mind  with  a  strong  and  bony  intellect,  but 
without  the  finer  emotions  being  visible,  though  they  cer- 
tainly existed  like^  waters  down  in  the  fountain.  Ilis  ex- 
pression indicates  thought,  observation,  profound  sense, 
modesty,  firmness,  decision,  and  great  independence  of 
character.  From  the  very  look  of  him  you  would  see 
that  he  is  a  man  who  thinks  and  acts  for  himself,  who 
sets  a  high  aim  before  him,  whose  honesty  cannot  be  tam- 
pered with,  and  wdio  cannot  be  either  drawn  or  driven 
from  his  purpose. 

You  notice  perhaps  some  irritability,  and  he  tells  us  he 
was  somewhat  hasty  in  temper,  but  you  perceive  that  it 
has  been  subdued  by  a  stern  judgment.  In  his  little  work 
on  The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding  he  lays  down  some 
admirable  rules  for  the  guidance  of  the  intellectual  pow- 
ers, but  would  lay  too  severe  a  restraint  upon  the  aifections 
— which  are  to  be  cherished  and  not  eradicated.  He  was 
possessed  of  deep  and  genuine  feeling,  but  it  would  have 
improved  his  philosophy  had  he  given  it  as  prominent  a 
place  as  he  did  to  the  understanding.  By  looking  more 
carefully  at  man's  emotional  and  moral  nature  he  might 
have  been  led  to  see  that  there  are  ideas  of  beauty  and 
moral  good  which  cannot  be  had  from  the  only  two  inlets 
into  the  mind  allowed  by  him,  sensation  and  refiection. 
He  was  ever  a  man  of  independent  thought  and  was  in 
general  a  sincere  lover  of  truth,  but  he  was  a  little  too  self- 
dependent  :  he  speaks  rather  too  often  and  too  strongly  of 


50  A  BPJEF  SKETCH   OF  LOCKE'S  LIFE. 

Ills  being  actuated  by  a  pure  desire  to  discover  truth.  It 
might  have  been  better  perhaps,  both  for  his  philosophic 
and  religious  creed,  if  he  had  learned  to  distrust  his  judg- 
ment a  little  more,  if  he  had  realized  that  self-confidence 
is  one  of  the  sins  to  which  humanity  is  liable,  and  allowed 
that  the  love  of  a  favorite  theoiy,  such  as  that  all  our  ideas 
come  from  sensation  and  reflection,  may  lead  to  the  over- 
sight of  facts.  Still,  when  we  go  along  with  him  we  feel 
that  we  are  walking  in  a  clear  and  bracing  atmosphere 
with  a  man  of  high  aim,  of  noble  purpose,  and  vigorous 
step,  and  that  to  keep  up  with  him  is  a  healthy  exercise 
fitted  to  invigorate  the  whole  intellectual  frame. 

His  style  is  described  by  Dugald  Stewart.  "  It  resem- 
bles that  of  a  well-educated  and  well-informed  man  of  the 
world  rather  than  of  a  recluse  student  who  had  made  an 
object  of  the  art  of  composition.  It  everywhere  abounds 
with  colloquial  expressions,  which  he  had  probably  caught 
by  the  ear  from  those  he  had  considered  as  models  of 
good  conversation,  and  hence,  though  it  seems  somewhat 
antiquated  and  not  altogether  suited  to  the  dignity  of  the 
subject,  it  may  be  presumed  to  have  contributed  its  share 
toward  his  great  object  of  turning  the  thoughts  of  his 
contemporaries  to  logical  and  metaphysical  inquiries  "  {Du- 
sertation^  Sec.  I.).  He  can  put  wisdom  in  apt  and  appo- 
site forms.  "  Good  manners  are  the  blossom  of  good  sense, 
and  it  may  be  added  of  good  feeling ;  for  if  the  law  of 
kindness  be  written  on  the  heart  it  will  lead  to  that  disin- 
terestedness in  little  as  well  as  in  great  things,  that  desire 
to  oblige  and  attention  to  the  gratification  of  others  which 
is  the  foundation  of  good  manners."  He  has  at  times 
passages  of  literary  beauty.  "  Thus  the  ideas  as  well  as  the 
children  of  our  youth  often  die  before  us,  and  our  minds 
represent  to  us  those  tombs  which  we  are  approaching, 
where,  thoi^h  the  brass  and  the  marble  remain,  yet  the  in- 


PICTURE  OF   SCHOLASTICISM.  51 

sci'iptions  are  effaced  by  time  and  the  imagery  moulders 
away.  The  pictures  drawn  in  our  mind  are  laid  in  fading 
colors,  and  if  not  sometimes  refreshed,  vanish  and  disap- 
pear "  (Essay,  II.,  19).  He  has  a  good  deal  of  humor,  the 
usual  con-comitant  of  good  sense.  On  his  way  to  Branden- 
burg, "  I  met  lately  accidentally  a  young  sucking  divine, 
who  thought  himself  no  small  champion,  who,  as  if  he 
liad  been  some  knight-errant  bound  by  oath  to  bid  battle 
to  all  comers,  first  accosted  me  in  courteous  voice,  but  the 
customary  salute  being  over  I  found  myself  assaulted  most 
furiously,  and  heavy  loads  of  arguments  fell  upon  me.  I, 
that  expected  no  such  thing,  was  fain  to  guard  myself  under 
the  trusty  broad  shield  of  ignorance,  and  only  now  and 
then  returned  a  blow  by  way  of  inquiry,  and  by  this  Par- 
thian way  of  flying  defended  myself  till  passion  and  want 
of  breath  had  made  him  weary,  and  so  we  came  to  an  ac- 
commodation, though  had  he  had  lungs  enough,  and  I  no 
other  use  of  my  ears,  the  combat  might  have  lasted  as  long 
as  the  wars  of  Troy."  "  One  day  when  I  rode  out  only  to 
an  airing  I  was  had  to  a  foddering  of  chopped  hay  or  logic 
forsooth.  Poor  materia  jprima  was  canvassed  cruelly, 
stripped  of  all  the  gay  dress  of  her  forms  and  shown  naked 
to  us,  though  I  must  confess  I  had  not  eyes  enough  to  see 
her ;  however,  the  dispute  was  good  sport  and  would  have 
made  a  horse  laugh,  and  truly  I  was  like  to  have  broke  my 
bridle.  The  young  monks  (which  one  would  not  guess  by 
their  looks)  are  a  subtle  people,  which  dispute  as  eagerly  for 
materia  prima  as  if  they  were  to  make  their  dinner  on  it, 
and  perhaps  sometimes  it  is  all  their  meal,  for  which  others' 
charity  is  more  to  be  blamed  than  their  stomach.  The  pro- 
fessor of  philosophy  and  moderator  of  the  disputation  was 
more  acute  at  it  than  Father  Iludibras ;  he  was  top  full  of 
distinctions,  which  he  produced  with  so  much  gravity  and 
applied,  with  so  good  a  grace,  that  ignorant  I  began  to  ad* 


52    SKETCH  OF  Locke's  general  theoey. 

mire  logic  again,  and  could  not  have  tlioiiglit  that  '  sim- 
pliciter  aut  secundum  quid  materialiter  et  formaliter,'  had 
been  such  gall  ant' things  which,  with  the  sight  of  stroking 
his  w^hiskers,  the  settling  of  his  hood,  and  his  stately  walk 
made  him  seem  to  himself  and  me  something  more  than 
Aristotle  and  Democritus.  But  he  was  so  hotly  charged 
by  one  of  the  seniors  of  the  fraternity  that  I  was  afraid 
sometimes  what  it  would  produce,  and  feared  there  would 
be  no  other  way  to  decide  the  controversy  between  them 
but  by  cuffs ;  but  a  subtle  distinction  divided  the  matter 
between  them  and  so  they  parted  good  friends.  Tlie  truth 
is  hog-shearing  is  here  much  in  its  glory,  and  our  disputing 
in  Oxford  comes  as  far  short  of  it  as  the  rhetoric  of  Car- 
fax does  that  of  Bilingsgate."  I  have  given  these  extracts 
from  his  journal  at  such  length  because  they  furnish  a 
more  vivid  picture,  than  I  myself  could  have  drawn,  of  the 
new  philosophy  represented  by  Locke,  in  its  confidence 
and  pride  taking  a  parting  look  at  the  old  philosophy, 
represented  by  the  scholastic  discussions,  passing  away  in 
the  midst  of  weakness  and  ridicule. 


SECTION  IL 


His  theory  is  a  simple  one,  some  think  scarcely  equal  to 
the  complexity  of  nature.  In  his  Epistle  to  the  Reader  he 
explains  the  occasion  on  which  the  thoughts  arose  in  his 
mind.  "  Were  it  fit  to  trouble  thee  with  the  history  of 
this  essay,  I  should  tell  thee  that  -&ve  or  six  friends  meet- 
ing at  my  chamber  and  discoursing  on  a  subject  very  re- 
mote from  this,  found  themselves  very  quickly  at  a  stand 
by  the  difficulties  that  arose  on  every  side.  After  we  had 
a  while  piTzzled  ourselves  without  coming  nearer  a  resolu- 


BOOKS   FIEST  AND   SECOND.  53 

tion  of  these  doubts  which  perplexed  us,  it  came  into  my 
thoughts  that  we  took  a  wrong  course ;  and  that  before  we 
set  ourselves  upon  inquiries  of  that  nature  it  was  neces- 
sary to  examine  our  own  abilities  and  see  what  objects 
ouc  understanding  were  or  were  not  fitted  to  deal  with. 
This  I  proposed  to  the  company,  who  all  readily  assented, 
and  thereupon  it  was  agreed  that  this  should  be  onr  first 
inquirj^" 

His  aim  was  to  find  what  subjects  the  understanding 
was  fitted  to  deal  with,  and  for  this  purpose  to  discover 
how  the  mind  gets  its  ideas  and  what  is  their  nature. 
The  work  was  written  "  by  catches,"  and  he  acknowledges 
that  intervals  of  "  many  long  interruptions  "  caused  ''  some 
repetitions." 

His  first  position,  to  which  he  holds  most  determinedly, 
is  that  the  mind  has  nothing  innate.  This  he  seeks  to  es- 
tablish in  Book  I.,  arguing  that  man  has  no  innate  specu- 
lative principles,  such  as  "that  it  is  impossible  for  the 
same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be  at  the  same  time,"  tliat  he 
has  no  innate  practical  or  moral  principles,  and  that  tlie 
ideas  supposed  to  be  innate,  such  as  that  of  God,  are  not  so. 

In  Book  II.  he  shows  how  we  get  our  ideas.  Locke  is 
much  addicted  to  speak  of  truths  by  means  of  images, 
and  he  supposes  the  mind  to  be,  "as  we  say,  white  paper, 
void  of  all  characters,  without  any  ideas"  (11.  1).  He 
says  that  "  external  and  internal  sensation  are  the  only 
passages  that  I  can  find  of  knowledge  to  the  understand- 
ing. These  alone,  as  far  as  I  can  discover,  are  the  win- 
dows by  which  light  is  let  into  this  dark  room  ;  for  me- 
thinks  the  understanding  is  not  much  unlike  a  closet 
wholly  shut  out  from  light,  with  only  some  little  opening 
left  to  let  in  external  visible  resemblances  or  ideas  of 
things  without ;  would  the  pictures  coming  into  such  a 
dark  room  but  stay  there  and  be  so  orderly  as  to  be  found 


54    SKETCH  or  Locke's  geneeal  theoey. 

upon  occasion,  it  would  very  much  resemble  the  under- 
standing of  a  man  in  reference  to  all  objects  of  sight  and 
the  ideas  of  them  "  (II.). 

These  two  inlets  he  called  Sensation  and  lieflection,  or 
external  and  internal  sense.  By  these  we  get  the  matqri- 
als  of  all  our  ideas.  lie  defines  idea  as  "  the  object  of  the 
understanding  when  it  thinks,"  and  means  by  it  much  the 
same  as  we  would  now  describe  as  conscious  states  or 
operations  of  the  mind. 

Upon  these  ideas  are  faculties  operating.     These  are : 
I.  Perception.  lY.  Comparison. 

II.  Hetention.  Y.  Composition. 

III.  Discernment.  YI.  Abstraction. 

Briefly,  the  faculties  (1)  perceive ;  (2)  retain  ;  (3)  dis- 
tinguish between  one  thing  and  another  ;  (4)  compare,  that 
is,  observe  resemblances;  (5)  put  objects  in  new  shapes ;  (6) 
separate  a  part  from  the  whole.  He  shows  how,  from 
these  materials  and  by  these  faculties,  we  get  all  our  ideas 
simple  and  complex  of  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities 
of  matter,  of  space,  power,  substance,  solidity,  and  infinity. 

In  Book  III.  he  speaks  of  words  in  relation  to  ideas, 
and  makes  some  very  important  remarks,  and  some  very 
extravagant  ones,  as  to  the  abuse  of  language.  This  sub- 
ject does  not  come  specially  in  our  way.  It  is  different 
with  Book  IY-,  where  he  speaks  of  knowledge,  opinion, 
assent,  and  faith.  Knowledge  is  represented  as  the  per- 
ception of  the  agreement  or  repugnance  of  our  ideas,  not 
of  things,  but  with  one  another ;  in  some  cases  the  agree- 
ment being  seen  intuitively  or  directly,  and  in  others  by  a 
process  in  which  there  may  be  more  or  less  certainty. 

Locke's  mind  was  filled  with  this  theory,  he  kept  it  be- 
fore him  for  twenty  years,  from  1670  to  1690,  when  lie 
published  it ;  but  he  did  not  state  it  in  a  determinate  way 
(to  use  a  phrase  of  his  own),  and  did  not  notice  other 


CHARGES  AGAINST  HIM.  55 

truths  which  limited  it.  Catching  the  spirit  of  his  times, 
he  had  an  aversion  to  the  scholastic  nomenclature  of  the 
middle  ages  (he  speaks  with  disdain  of  "  their  uncouth, 
affected,  or  unintelligible  terms"),  which  continued  to 
be  used  in  philosophy  down  to  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  In  his  stjde  he  adopted  the  language  of 
those  who  were  reckoned  as  the  models  of  talking  and 
writing  in  his  day.  As  a  consequence  his  phraseology  is 
often  conversational  and  loose.  This  helped  to  gain  him 
a  hearing  in  his  own  age,  but  has  led  to  his  being  misun- 
derstood in  later  times.  There  have  been  many  contro- 
versies as  to  his  precise  doctrine  on  certain  points,  as  for 
instance,  what  power  he  gives  to  reflection  as  one  of  the 
inlets  of  knowledge,  and  what  is  the  relation  between  his 
two  inlets  of  ideas  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  faculties  re- 
presented as  working  upon  these  ideas  on  the  other.  I  be- 
lieve that  on  some  points  he  has  been  misrepresented  ;  he 
has  been  spoken  of  as  an  idealist,  a  sensationalist,  and  a  ra- 
tionalist. It  will  be  necessary  to  examine  these  charges.  I 
suspect  that  the  Iksay  on  Human  Uuderstanding,  which 
used  to  be  so  famous,  is  not  much  read  in  the  present 
day.  The  views  of  it  which  are  entertained  by  students 
generally*  are  commonly  taken  from  histories  of  philoso- 
phy and  compends,  in  which  Locke  is  put  into  an  artificial 
class,  in  which  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  philosophy 
and  his  specialties  are  overlooked.  It  is  necessary  in  these 
circumstances  to  have  his  system  reviewed  anew.  This 
will  enable  us  to  determine  exactly  what  was  his  view  of 
the  understanding,  when  it  will  appear  that  in  some  points 
he  has  been  misunderstood  both  by  his  admirers  and  his 
opponents ;  that  he  has  retained  a  larger  portion  of  primi- 
tive truth  than  some  give  him  credit  for ;  while  he  has 
not  retained  enough  to  furnish  a  deeply  settled  foundation 
for  truth. 


56  MEANING   OF   IDEA  AND   REFLECTION. 


SECTION  m. 

MEATSriNG   OF   IDEA.  AND   REFLECTION. 

He  defines  "idea"  as  "the  object  of  the  understand- 
ing when  it  thinks,"  and  uses  it  to  express  "  whatever  is 
meant  by  pliantasm,  notion,  species."  The  schoohneii 
drew  more  or  less  clearly  a  distinction  between  these  three 
phrases.  By  phantasm,  a  term  derived  from  Aristotle,  they 
designated  the  representation  of  a  particular  thing,  say, 
of  a  lily.  Motion  was  used  only  when  some  intellectual 
operation  was  employed  in  the  formation  of  it,  say,  a  gen- 
eral notion,  or  what  is  now  designated  concept.  Species 
referred  to  visible  appearance  and  to  objects  classified. 
Locke  might  have  profitably  looked  to  these  distinctions  ; 
they  would  have  saved  him  from  much  confusion;  but 
he  has  an  aversion  to  all  scholastic  distinctions.  He 
seems  to  me  to  denote  by  it  any  of  our  conscious  mental 
states,  as  we  would  now  express  it,  all  our  sense  percep- 
tions, our  recollections,  our  judgments,  our  moral  approba- 
tions. As  he  employs  it,  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word 
as  an  image  always  attaches  to  it,  hence  he  has  a  difficulty 
in  understanding  what  a  general  notion  is  ;  for  when  he 
regards  it  as  an  idea,  he  looks  upon  it  not  as  a  combina- 
tion of  things  by  points  of  resemblance,  which  it  is,  but  as 
a  figure  or  fancy  which  is  inadequate  to  represent  a  class 
or  concept.     . 

It  is  evident  that  Locke  views  the  mind  as  looking  to 
ideas  in  all  its  exercises  rather  than  to  things.  It  will  be 
necessary,  as  we  proceed,  to  inquire  how  he  gets  from  ideas 
to  things     At  this  point  Berkeley  drove  him  to  idealism, 


IDEAS  AND   THINGS.  57 

maintaining  that  there  is  no  proof  of  anything  but  the 
idea ;  and  Hume  to  skepticism,  arguing  that  there  is  no 
reality  in  the  idea.  But  it  is  certain  that  Locke  thought 
he  could,  from  the  ideas,  get  to  things.  He  identifies  the 
ideas  with  the  things  they  represent,  and  regards  the  un- 
derstanding in  looking  at  ideas  as  looking  at  real  things. 
He  tells  us  expressly,  indeed,  that  "  the  mind  knows  not 
things  immediately,  but  only  by  the  intervention  of  the 
ideas  it  has  of  them"  (I\'^.,  4).  But  there  are  passages  in 
which  he  speaks  of  the  understanding  as  looking  at 
material  things.  "  To  discover  the  nature  of  our  ideas  the 
better  and  to  discourse  of  them  intelligently,  it  will  be  con- 
venient to  distinguish  them  as  they  are  ideas  or  percep- 
tions in  our  minds,  and  [what  seems  an  extraordinary 
statement  from  him]  as  they  are  modifications  of  matter  in 
the  bodies  that  cause  such  perceptions  in  us  "  (H.,  8).  But 
our  present  inquiry  is  about  the  meaning  of  the  word.  The 
subject  of  the  relation  of  ideas  to  realities  wdll  require  to 
be  taken  up  in  a  later  part  of  this  paper. 

But  this  may  be  the  most  suitable  place  for  mentioning 
that  I  regard  Locke  as  entirely  successful  in  showing  that 
the  mind  has  not  within  it  at  its  birth  the  ideas  of  which 
he  speaks ;  that  it  has  not  images,  phantasms,  or  abstract 
notions  of  any  kind.  In  all  this  he  has  dissipated  and  scat- 
tered a  whole  cloud  of  errors  which  had  for  ages  brooded 
over  and  darkened  the  whole  subject  of  the  origin  and 
nature  of  ideas  and  knowledge. 

There  has  also  been  a  controversy  about  the  use  of  the 
word  reflection.  The  phrase  was  used  by  Gassendi,  by 
whom  it  is  supposed  Locke  was  considerably  influenced,  to 
signify  a  faculty  above  sensation  reviewing  all  the  opera- 
tions of  the  mind.  Locke  makes  it,  our  observation  "  em- 
ployed about  the  internal  operations  of  our  mind  perceived 
and  reflected  on  by  ourselves  "  (H.,  1).     It  denotes  some- 


58  OFFICES   DISCHARGED   BY  THE  FACULTIES. 

thing  more  than  we  now  express  by  the  phrase  self -con- 
sciousness, which  signifies  the  knowledge  of  self  in  its 
present  state.  According  to  Locke  it  implies  attention, 
which  is  an  act  of  the  will  and  is  continuous.  He  says  that 
the  ideas  of  reflection  "  need  attention."  He  denotes  by  it 
the  act  of  the  mind  in  voluntarily  bending  back  and  looking 
in  upon  its  operations.  When  it  was  objected  to  Locke  that 
he  could  not  get  our  higher  ideas,  such  as  those  of  moral 
good,  from  his  two  inlets,  it  was  answered  by  some,  such 
as  Leibnitz  and  Stewart,  that  he  could  get  them  from  reflec- 
tion. But  this  is  entirely  inconsistent  with  Locke's  theory, 
which  represents  reflection  as  the  eye  looking  in  upon  the 
operations  of  the  mind,  in  which  exercise  it  can  see  only 
what  is  in  the  mind,  and  therefore  cannot  see  moral  good 
unless  it  be  already  there  ;  and  this  must  be  by  some  other 
power  producing  it. 


SECTION  rv. 

OFFICES   DISCHAKGED    BY   THE    FACULTIES. 

What  is  the  relation  of  the  faculties  to  the  two  original 
inlets  of  knowledge  ?  This  is  a  subject  on  which  Locke 
has  not  expressed  himself  very  clearly.  From  his  meta- 
phorical expressions  it  looks  as  if  ideas  came  into  the  mind 
from  without.  We  can  understand  how  this  might  be  so 
lar  as  sensible  objects  are  concerned.  When  it  is  asked 
"  how  bodies  produce  ideas  in  us,"  it  is  answered,  "  that 
it  is  manifestly  by  impulse,  the  only  way  which  we 
can  conceive  bodies  operate  in"  (H.,  8).  But  what  does 
impulse  mean  when  applied  to  an  action  on  mind  by  mat- 
ter ?  Then,  it  is  not  conceivable  that  our  ideas  by  reflec- 
tion, which  are  wholly  within  the  mind,  could  have  come 
from  witfiout. 


IDEAS  AND  eeflectio:n'.  69 

He  represents  the  ideas  coming  in  by  these  inlets  as 
passive,  and  such  as  the  mind  cannot  get  rid  of.  But  it 
does  not  seem  as  if  formed  ideas  come  in  after  this  man- 
ner, but  merely  the  materials  of  ideas.  Both  the  phrases 
inlet  21.^^' materials  are  metaphorical  and  somewhat  ma- 
terialistic. It  does  not  appear  that  the  inlets  furnish  ideas 
till  the  faculties,  till  at  least  perception  works  upon  them. 
."  To  ask  at  what  time  a  man  has  first  any  ideas,  is  to  ask 
w^hen  he  begins  to  perceive  ;  having  ideas,  and  perception, 
being  the  same  thing  "  (II.,  9).  "  Simple  ideas  are  sug- 
gested and  furnished  to  the  mind  only  by  those  two  ways 
above  mentioned,  viz.,  sensation  and  reflection  "  (IL,  2). 
And  yet  a  little  further  on  he  says,  "  Perception  is  the 
first  faculty  of  the  mind  employed  about  our  ideas  "  (II., 
9) ;  as  if  we  had  first  ideas  and  then  perceive  them. 
"Our  ideas  being  nothing  but  actual  perceptions  in  the 
mind  which  cease  to  be  anything  when  there  is  no  percep- 
tion of  them  "  (II.,  10).  He  says,  "  Perception  being  the 
first  step  and  degree  toward  knowledge,  and  the  inlet  of 
all  the  materials  of  it ; "  and  again,  "  Perception  is  the  first 
operation  of  all  our  intellectual  faculties,  and  the  inlet  of 
all  knowledge  into  our  minds  "  (II.,  9).  How  are  we  to 
bring  a  consistent  whole  out  of  these  various  statements, 
giving  its  ofiice  to  sensation  and  reflection  on  the  one 
hand,  and  to  perception  on  the  other  ?  Before  we  can  an- 
swer the  question  we  must  notice  that  all  the  other  facul- 
ties are  employed  about  the  ideas  as  well  as  perception. 
Thus  he  tells  us  that  there  is  "  no  knowledge  without  dis- 
cerning," that  is,  "distinguishing  between  the  several 
ideas  we  have."  In  particular,  he  is  obliged  to  give  a 
large  place  to  the  faculties  in  discovering  relations,  such 
as  those  of  identity,  and  of  cause  and  effect. 

Locke  speaks  everywhere  of  the  ideas  and  knowledge 
which  men  may  obtain  "  by  the  use  and  due  application 


60  OFFICES   DISCHAEGED   BY   THE  FACULTIES. 

of  their  natural  faculties  "  (I.,  3).  He  asserts  that  "  men, 
barely  by  the  use  of  their  natural  faculties,  may  attain  to 
all  the  knowledge  they  have  without  the  help  of  any  in- 
nate impressions,  and  may  arrive  at  certainty  without  any 
such  original  notions  or  principles  "  (I.,  3).  Here  we  may 
notice  his  opposition  to  everything  inborn,  but  at  the  same 
time  his  distinct  recognition  of  the  important  oifices  dis- 
charged by  the  faculties.  It  looks  as  if,  while  denying  in- 
nate ideas,  he  made  the  faculties  perform  somewhat  of  the 
same  offices  as  tlie  a  jpriori  principles,  or  primary  truths, 
are  supposed  to  do  by  their  advocates.  Had  Locke  care- 
fully and  systematically  unfolded  all  that  is  in  the  facul- 
ties, it  might  have  been  seen  that  there  is  not  after  all  so 
great  a  difference  between  his  views  and  those  of  the  phi- 
losophers who  oppose  him,  as  is  commonly  imagined.  But 
it  would  thereby  appear  only  the  more  clearly  that  he  was 
guilty  of  a  gi-eat  and  inexcusable  oversight  in  not  telling 
us  precisely  how  much  the  faculties  can  do.  The  follow- 
ing passage  helps  to  let  us  see  what  his  views  were:  "Had 
they  examined  the  ways  whereby  men  come  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  many  universal  truths,  they  would  have  found 
them  to  result  in  the  minds  of  men  from  the  being  of 
things  themselves,  when  duly  considered,  and  that  they 
were  discovered  by  the  application  of  those  faculties  that 
were  fitted  by  nature  to  receive  and  judge  of  them  when 
duly , employed  about  them"  (L,  4).  Here  we  have  two 
very  important  principles.  One  is  that  knowledge  comes 
from  the  consideration — he  should  have  said  from  theper- 
ceptioji — of  the  being  of  things ;  a  most  important  truth, 
which  will  require  to  be  separatelj''  considered.  The  other 
is  that  men  obtain  them  by  "  the  application  of  their  fac- 
ulties." 

He  certainly  ascribes  to  the  faculties  very  important 
functions.     He  gives  them  the  power  of  suggesting,  a  ca- 


OFFICE  OF  ITq^TUITION'.  61 

pacity  which  might  open  up  wide  fields.  Existence  is  an 
idea  suggested  to  the  understanding  by  every  object  (II., 
7).  Among  all  the  ideas  we  have,  as  there  is  none  sug- 
gested, so  there  is  none  more  simple  than  that  of  unity 
(II,  16). 

He  allots  a  very  important  place  to  intuition.  "  Our 
highest  degree  of  knowledge  is  intuitive  without  reason- 
ing." "  For  if  we  will  reflect  on  our  own  ways  of  thinking, 
we  shall  find  that  sometimes  the  mind  perceives  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  of  two  ideas  immediately  by  them- 
selves without  the  intervention  of  any  others ;  and  this,  I 
think,  may  be  called  intuitive  knowledge.  For  in  this  the 
mind  is  at  no  pains  of  proving  or  examining,  but  perceives 
the  truth  as  the  eye  doth  light,  only  by  being  directed 
toward  it "  (lY.,  2).  "  Some  of  the  ideas  that  are  in  the 
mind  are  so  there,  that  they  can  be  by  themselves  imme- 
diately compared  one  with  another,  and  in  these  the  mind 
is  able  to  perceive  that  they  agree  or  disagree  as  clearly  as 
that  it  has  them.  Thus  the  mind  perceives  that  the  arch 
of  a  circle  is  less  than  the  whole  circle "  {TV.,  17).  He 
tells  us  "we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  our  own 
existence  "  (lY.,  3).  He  goes  so  far  as  to  declare,  "  It  is 
on  intuition  that  depends  all  the  certainty  and  evidence  of 
all  our  knowledge  "  (lY.,  2). 

Upon  this  intuitive  knowledge  demonstration  proceeds, 
and  in  it  "  the  mind  perceives  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  any  ideas,  but  not  immediately ;  "  it  is  by  inter- 
vening proofs  in  which  each  step  has  intuitive  evidence. 
He  maintains  that  of  "  real  existence  we  have  an  intuitive 
knowledge  of  our  own,  demonstrative  of  God's,  sensitive 
of  some  few  other  things.  All  this  sounds  very  much  like 
the  doctrine  of  those  who  hold  by  a  priori  truth.  1  am 
pleased  to  find  that  he  regards  self -evidence — and  not  ne- 
cessity, which  Leibnitz  and  Kant  do — as  the  test  of  intui- 


63  OFFICES  DISCHAEGED  BY  THE  FACULTIES. 

tive  truth.  "  Whether  they  come  in  view  of  the  mind 
earlier  or  later,  this  is  true  of  them,  that  they  are  all  known 
by  their  native  evidence,  are  wholly  independent,  receive 
no  light,  nor  are  capable  of  any  proof  one  from  another." 
But  there  is  a  fundamental  error  in  his  view  of  intuition. 
He  cannot,  in  consistency  with  his  general  theory  of  the 
mind,  looking  only  at  ideas,  make  intuition  look  at  things. 
All  intuitions  are  judgments  and  involve  a  comparison  of 
ideas.  This  error  was  seen  at  an  early  date  (1697)  by 
King,  author  of  the  Origin  of  Evil,  and  at  a  later  day  by 
Reid,  who  remarks  :  "  I  say  a  sensation  exists,  and  I  think 
I  understand  clearly  what  I  mean.  But  you  want  to  make 
the  thing  clearer,  and  for  that  end  tell  me  that  there  is  an 
agreement  between  the  idea  of  that  sensation  and  the  idea 
of  existence.  To  speak  freely  this  conveys  to  me  no  light, 
but  darkness."  '  The  primary  exercise  of  intuition  seems 
to  be  an  immediate  perception  of  things  without  xis  and 
within  us.  It  is  only  thus  we  can  construct  a  philosophic 
realism  such  as  Locke  meant  to  hold. 

He  gives  a  high  and  deep  place  to  reason.  In  replying 
to  Stillingfleet  he  is  able  to  say,  "  Reason,  as  standing  for 
true  and  clear  principles,  and  also  as  standing  for  true,  and 
clear,  and  fair  deductions  from  these  principles,  I  have  not 
wholly  omitted,  as  is  manifest  from  what  I  have  said  of 
self-evident  propositions,  intuitive  knowledge,  and  demon- 
stration." He  might  have  stated  more  strongly  that  he 
often  appeals  to  reason ;  and  he  was  claimed  by  the  Unitari- 
ans of  last  century  as  a  rationalist  both  in  philosophy  and 
religion.  From  the  passage  last  quoted  we  discover  what 
he  means  by  reason  and  what  offices  he  allots  it ;  it  in- 
cludes "  true  and  clear  principles,"  and  also  deductions 
from  them.   It  is  especially  important  to  notice  that  it  em- 


^  See  Intuitions  of  the  Mind^  Part  I.,  Book  ii. 


OFFICE  OF   EEASON.  63 

braces  "  self-evident  propositions,  intuitive  knowledge  and 
demonstration."  What  is  this  but  "the  reason  in  the 
first  degree  "  of  Eeid,  "  the  fundamental  laws  of  belief  " 
of  Stewart,  and  the  "  pure  reason  "  of  Kant  ?  Again  wo 
discover  that  Locke  meant  to  stand  up  for  the  deep  and 
radical  principles  which  the  Scottish  and  German  schools 
have  been  defending  and  settling.  But  while  he  means 
to  do  this  I  am  not  sure  that  he  has  done  it.  For  at  what 
place  in  his  system  does  reason  come  in  ?  It  is  certainly 
not  among  the  inlets  of  ideas  and  knowledge,  and  it  does 
not  appear  in  the  list  of  the  faculties  working  on  the  ideas. 
But  he  certainly  brings  it  in,  consistently  or  inconsistently, 
and  I  can  only  suppose  that  he  makes  it  an  exercise,  prob- 
ably a  sort  of  combined  exercise  of  the  faculties.  This 
only  makes  us  regret  the  more  that  he  has  not  unfolded 
more  fully  the  powers  embraced  in  these  faculties  as  they 
look  at  things.  Had  he  done  so  he  might  have  found  that 
these  faculties  and  their  properties  are  truly  innate,  though 
the  ideas  which  they  produce  cannot  be  said  to  be  bo. 


SECTION  V. 

HOW  THE  HIGHER  IDEAS  OF  THE  MIND  ARE  FORMED. 

Having  set  aside  all  innate  ideas  in  Book  First,  of  his 
Essay,  Locke  proceeds,  in  Book  Second,  to  show  how  ideas 
are  actually  formed :  this  is  from  the  two  sources  Sensa- 
tion and  Reflection,  and  by  the  Faculties  working  on  the 
materials  thus  supplied.  He  shows  this  specially  as  to  the 
ideas  which  are  farthest  removed  from  sense,  and  are  supr 
posed  to  be  innate.  It  may  serve  a  good  purpose  to  look 
at  the  way  in  which  he  fashions  some  of  the  deepest  and 
highest  ideas  which  the  mind  of  man  can  form.     The 


64  HIGHEE  IDEAS   OF  THE  MIND. 

charge  against  him  is  that  he  cannot  form  them  by  the 
means  he  calls  in. 

Existence  is  "an  idea  suggested  to  the  understanding 
by  every  object "  (II.,  7).  The  correct  account  is  that  we 
know  objects  as  existing,  and  do  not  need  a  suggestion. 
Unity  is  also  represented  as  a  suggested  idea,  whereas  it 
is  involved  in  the  perception  of  things  which  are  known 
first  as  singular.  Our  own  existence  is  known  intuitively. 
This  is  all  right,  but  surely  this  implies  a  knowledge  not 
through  ideas  but  directly.  At  this  place  we  see  clearly 
the  unsatisfactory  nature  of  the  theory  of  knowledge  only 
through  ideas. 

Body. — It  is  difficult  to  determine  how  Locke  makes  us 
reach  the  knowledge  of  body.  lie  tells  us  expressly  "  'tis 
evident  the  mind  knows  not  things  immediately,  but  only 
by  the  idea  it  has  of  them  "  (lY.,  3).  But  he  has  not  suc- 
ceeded in  showing  how  from  an  idea  supposed  to  be  in 
the  mind  he  can  reach  by  any  legitimate  process  an  object 
external  to  the  mind  and  extended.  This,  however,  will 
require  to  be  separately  considered.  He  distinguishes 
primary  and  secondary  qualities  (11.,  8).  The  Primary 
"  are  utterly  inseparable  from  matter,  in  whatever  state 
it  be."  How  he  knows  that  primary  qualities  are  insepar- 
able from  matter  he  does  not  tell  us.  He  says  that  "  the 
ideas  of  primary  qualities  of  bodies  are  resemhla7ices  of 
them,"  as  if  the  idea  of  gold  could  be  properly  described 
as  having  a  resemblance  to  gold.  There  is,  certainly,  some 
correspondence,  though  resemblance  does  not  seem  the 
exact  word  ;  but  how  can  he  know  this  when  he  does  not 
perceive  the  bodi'es  ?  "  The  ideas  produced  in  us  by  the 
secondary  qualities  have  no  resemblance  of  them."  I  be- 
lieve that  there  is  a  distinction  between  the  primary  and 
secondary  qualities  of  bodies.  But  I  am  not  sure  that  it 
has  been  accurately  drawn  by  Locke.     Primary  qualities 


SPACE,  TIME,  AND  SUBSTANCE.         65 

resolved  by  Locke,  very  properly,  into  extension,  solidity, 
and  motion,  are  perceived  at  once,  whereas  secondary 
qualities,  such  as  heat,  are  mere  organic  affections  for  which 
we  argue  a  cause,  and  science  finds  it  in  molecular  motion. 

Sj?ace. — He  is  in  the  same  difficulty  here  as  in  re- 
gard to  body,  of  getting  it  from  an  idea  in  the  mind  which 
has  no  spatial  properties.  He  very  properly  says  that  our 
idea  of  space  is  got  from  touch  and  sight ;  I  believe  he 
might  have  said  that  we  get  it  from  all  the  senses,  as  by 
all  the  senses  we  know  our  bodies  as  extended  and  resist- 
ing our  energy. 

Time. — It  is  evident  that  he  cannot  get  this  idea  from 
sensation,  so  he  gets  it  from  reflection :  by  reflecting  on 
the  succession  of  our  ideas.  At  this  point  the  defect  of 
his  theory  has  been  pointed  out  by  Leibnitz  and  Cousin. 
Keflection  can  perceive  only  what  is  in  the  mind,  and 
cannot  perceive  succession  unless  it  be  ah-eady  there. 
Time  is  one  of  those  ideas  which  come  in  always  in  the 
concrete  with  the  exercise  of  the  faculties  ;  in  memory  we 
recall  an  event  as  having  liappened  in  the  past. 

Substance. — Evidently  he  is  greatly  troubled  with  this 
idea,  and  yet  he  has  not  the  courage  to  avow  it.  Stilling- 
fleet,  a  man  of  scholarship,  though  not  of  much  philo- 
sophical ability,  charges  him  wdth  denying  or  at  least  over- 
looking this  idea.  Locke  wrote  a  courteous  and  elaborate 
reply  in  which  he  shows  a  good  deal  of  fencing,  but  no 
very  decisive  statement.  He  is  indignant  at  his  opponent 
for  making  him  deny  the  existence  of  substance.  He 
argues  that  it  exists,  but  certainly  not  on  grounds  very 
consistent  with  his  theory.  He  acknowledges  that  sub- 
stance is  unknown  to  us  (H.,  23) ;  he  evidently  cannot  get 
it  either  from  sensation  or  reflection,  but  he  asserts,  "  all 
sensible  qualities  carry  with  them  a  supposition  of  a  sub- 
stratum to  exist  in  "  (H.,  23).     "  We  cannot  conceive  how 


66         HIGHEE  IDEAS  OF  THE  MIND. 

sensible  qualities  should  subsist  alone,  and  therefore,  we 
suppose  them  to  exist  in  some  common  subject."  Here  he 
makes  our  conception  a  test  of  truth,  and  resorts  to  a  sup- 
position which  he  cannot  justify  on  his  theory.  We  know 
the  substances  mind  and  body  as  having  being,  indepen- 
dence of  our  observation  of  them,  and  as  having  potency. 

Power. — Ilis  views  on  this  subject,  which  has  come  into 
such  prominence  since  the  days  of  Hume,  contain  some 
important  truths,  but  are  very  far  from  being  adequate. 
Power  being  the  source  from  which  all  action  proceeds, 
the  substances  wherein  these  powers  are  when  they  exert 
this  power  are  called  causes  (H.,  21).  I  am  glad  to  find 
him  placing  power  in  substance.  His  account  should  be 
quoted  in  full  (II.,  21) :  "  The  mind  being  every  day  in- 
formed by  the  senses  of  the  alteration  of  those  simple 
ideas  it  observes  in  things  without,  and  taking  no  notice 
how  one  comes  to  an  end  and  ceases  to  be,  and  another  be- 
gins to  exist  which  was  not  before  ;  reflecting  also  on  what 
passes  within  itself,  and  observing  a  constant  change  of  its 
ideas,  sometimes  by  the  impression  of  outward  objects  on 
the  senses,  and  sometimes  by  the  determination  of  its  own 
choice ;  and  concluding  from  what  it  has  so  constantly  ob- 
served to  have  been,  that  the  like  changes  will  be  made 
for  the  future  in  the  same  things  by  like  agents  and  by 
the  like  ways ;  considers  in  one  thing  the  possibility  of 
having  any  of  its  simple  ideas  changed,  and  in  another 
the  possibility  of  making  that  change,  and  so  comes  by 
that  idea  w^e  call  power."  He  concludes^  but  from  what 
premises  he  does  not  tell  us,  and  from  this  theory  he  can- 
not find  a  premise  which  will  guarantee  such  a  wide  con- 
clusion. He  simply  tells  us,  ''  the  mind  must  collect  a 
power  somewhere  able  to  make  that  change,  as  well  as  a 
possibility  of  the  thing  itself  to  receive  it."  The  word  must 
makes  the  ^peal  to  necessity  which  he  cannot  legitimately 


CAUSE,    INFINITY,    AND   GOOD.  67 

employ.  "  Again,  from  the  observation  of  tlie  constant 
vicissitude  of  things  we  get  our  ideas  of  cause  and  effect " 
(II.,  37),  a  theory  which  enables  Hume  to  draw  all  his 
skeptical  conclusions,  that  we  have  no  idea  of  cause  beyond 
that  of  observed  antecedence,  and  no  evidence  that  cause 
operates  beyond  oui*  experience.  I  believe  that  he  is  right 
in  drawing  our  idea  of  cause  from  both  sensation  and  re- 
flection, but  "  that  the  mind  receives  its  idea  of  active 
power  clearer  from  reflection  on  its  own  operations  than  it 
does  from  any  external  sensation."  He  has  some  very 
positive  ideas  as  to  the  extent  and  limits  of  power  which 
he  cannot  draw  f i-om  his  inlets  and  capacities.  "  It  is  as 
impossible  to  conceive  that  ever  bare  incogitable  matter 
should  produce  a  thinking,  intelligible  being,  as  that  noth- 
ing should  produce  something." 

This  may  all  be  good  reasoning,  but  Locke  has  nothing 
on  which  to  found  it. 

Infinity. — He  denies  that  ke  has  a  positive  idea  of 
inflnity  (II.,  17).  Yet  he  stands  up  for  its  existence. 
"  Man  knows  that  nothing  cannot  produce  a  being,  there- 
fore there  must  be  something  eternal"  (lY.,  10).  The 
conclusion  is  right,  but  he  does  not  prove  it.  He  assures 
us,  on  what  evidence  he  does  not  say,  "Wherever  the 
mind  places  space  itself  by  any  thought,  either  amongst  or 
remote  from  all  bodies,  it  can  in  this  uniform  idea  of  space 
nowhere  find  any  bounds,  any  end ;  and  so  must  neces- 
sarily conclude,  it  by  the  very  nature  and  idea  of  each  part 
of  it  to  be  actually  infinite  "  (II.,  17).  He  has  some  fine 
glimpses  of  the  truth  which  we  will  speak  of  when  we 
come  to  consider  the  idea  of  God. 

Moral  Good. — At  this  point  Locke's  oversights  were  first 
seen  in  England,  which  has  always  been  jealous  of  every 
thing  seeming  to  bear  against  morality.  These  were 
pointed  out  by  the  third  Lord  Shaftesbury,  the  grandson 


68  HIGHER  IDEAS   OF  THE  MIND. 

of  his  friend  and  patron.  Certainly  the  philosopher's 
views  on  this  subject  are  lamentably  meagre.  He  does 
not  get  the  idea  of  moral  good  from  reflection  ;  indeed  he 
could  not  do  so  according  to  his  theory,  as  reflection  only 
sees  what  is  already  in  the  mind.  He  derives  it  openly 
and  avowedly  from  sensation.  "  Things  are  good  or  evil 
only  in  reference  to  pleasure  or  pain  ;  that  we  call  good 
which  is  apt  to  cause  or  increase  pleasure  "  (II.,  20).  He 
makes  good  not  to  be  a  thing  in  itself,  but  merely  a  relation. 
"  Moral  good  and  evil  is  only  the  conformity  or  disagree- 
ment of  our  voluntary  actions  to  some  law  whereby  good 
and  evil  is  drawn  on  us  from  the  lawgiver  ;  w^hicli  good  and 
evil,  pleasure  and  pain  attending  our  observance  or  breach 
of  the  law  by  the  decree  of  the  lawgiver,  is  that  we  call 
reward  and  punishment"  (H.,  28).  In  this  he  makes 
morality  depend  on  an  arbitrary  appointment  on  a  law  for 
which  he  can  bring  no  defence,  and  a  God  whose  ways  he 
cannot  justify.  The  moral  evil  is  bad,  not  in  itself,  but  be- 
cause there  is  punishment  attached.  Whereas,  the  true 
statement  is  that  punishment  is  attached  to  it  because  it  is 
evil.  Yet  he  thinks  he  is  able  by  this  unsatisfactory  genesis 
to  reach  "  a  natural  law,"  "  discoverable  by  our  natural  fac- 
ulties." He  reaches  the  conclusion,  "  The  idea  of  a  S  upreme 
Being  infinite  in  power,  goodness,  and  wisdom,  whose 
workmanship  we  are,  and  on  whom  we  depend ;  and 
the  idea  of  ourselves  as  understanding  rational  beings, 
being  such  as  are  clear  to  us,  would,  I  suppose,  if  only  con- 
sidered and  pursued,  afford  such  foundations  of  our  duty 
and  rules  of  action  as  might  place  morality  among  the 
sciences  capa'ble  of  demonstration  ;  wherein  I  doubt  not 
but  from  self-evident  propositions,  by  necessary  con- 
sequences as  incontestable  as  those  in  mathematics,  the 
measures  of  right  and  wrong  might  be  made  out  to  any 
one  that  will  apply  with  the  same  indifferency  and  atten- 


IDEA  OF  NECESSITY  AND   GOD.  69 

tion  to  the  one  as  lie  does  to  the  other  of  these  sciences  " 
(lY.,  3).  The  language  here  employed  leads  me  to  con- 
sider— 

The  Idea  of  Necessity. — He  is  often  appealing  to  a  neces- 
sity. He  speaks  of  certain  and  universal  knowledge  as  hav- 
ing "  necessary  connection,"  "  necessary  coexistence," 
"  necessary  dependence  "  (lY.,  3).  We  are  able  to  see  how 
lie  could  reach  demonstration,  all  the  propositions  in  which 
are  seen  to  be  true  intuitively ;  the  question  is,  Could  he 
do  it  consistently  ?  "  In  some  of  our  ideas  there  are  certain 
relations,  habitudes  and  connections,  so  visibly  inchided  in 
the  nature  of  the  ideas  themselves,  that  we  cannot  conceive 
them  separable  from  them  by  any  power  whatsoever.  And 
in  these  only  we  are  capable  of  certain  and  universal  knowl- 
edge. Thus  the  idea  of  a  right-angled  triangle  necessarily 
carries  within  it  an  equality  of  its  angles  to  two  right 
angles  "  (lY.  3).  He  thinks  he  has  like  principles  in  ethics, 
and  so  thinks  they  are  capable  of  demonstration.  All  this 
is  apparently  after  the  method  of  the  rational  school,  and 
it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  he  could  draw  it  from  his  ex- 
periential principles.  Again  we  are  led  to  regret  that  he 
has  not  determined  for  us  what  is  in  this  reason,  with  its 
"  certain  relations,  habitudes  and  connections."  We  have 
yet  to  consider  as  illustrating  these  points — 

The  Idea  of  God. — He  tells  us  how  we  come  by  this 
idea :  "  I  think  it  unavoidable  for  every  considering, 
rational  creature  that  w^ill  but  examine  his  own  or  any 
other  existence  to  have  the  notion  of  an  eternal  being  who 
had  no  beginning  "  (II.,  14).  He  refers  his  proof  to  the 
faculties.  "  We  are  capable  of  knowing  certainly  that 
there  is  a  God,  though  God  has  given  us  no  innate  ideas 
of  himself,  though  he  has  stamped  no  original  characters 
on  our  minds  wherein  we  may  read  his  being ;  yet  having 
furnished  us  with  those  faculties  our  minds  are  endowed 


70  .     WAS  LOCKE  AN  IDEALIST? 

with,  lie  liatli  not  left  himself  without  a  witness,  since  we 
have  sense,  perception,  and  reason,  and  cannot  want  a  clear 
proof  of  him  as  long  as  we  carry  ourselves  about  us  " 
(lY.,  10).  He  thinks  he  can  reach  in  this  way :  "  The 
eternity  of  that  infinite  being  which  must  necessarily  have 
always  existed  "  (II.,  114).  By  a  like  exercise  of  the  facul- 
ties he  clothes  the  Divine  Being  with  his  other  perfections. 
"What  was  needed  in  Locke's  daj^,  what  is  still  needed, 
is  an  inductive  exposition  of  all  that  is  comprehended  in 
these  faculties,  in  the  intuition  and  the  reason  to  which 
Locke  is  so  constantly  employing.  This  was  what  was  at- 
tempted by  Held  and  Kant ;  but  the  attempt  has  to  be 
renewed  to  reduce  the  systems  to  a  consistent  whole  and 
above  all  to  make  them  thoroughly  conform  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  mind. 


SECTION  VI. 

WAS   LOCKE   AN    IDEALIST? 

Certainly  no  one  uses  the  word  "  idea "  so  frequently. 
I  believe  that  Berkeley  drove  his  theory  logically  to  ideal- 
ism, yet  Locke  was  undoubtedly  a  determined  realist,  be- 
lieving in  the  existence  of  a  mind  as  well  as  of  ideas,  and 
of  a  body  as  well  as  a  mind. 

lie  defines  idea,  "  Whatsoever  is  the  object  of  the  un- 
derstanding when  it  thinks  "  (L,  1).  It  would  have  been 
more  correct  to  say  that  idea  is  the  state  of  the  mind  when 
it  thinks  of  an  object.  His  view  is  repeated  in  the  fuller 
definition,  *"  Whatsoever  the  mind  perceives  in  itself,  or  is 
the  immediate  object  of  perception,  thought,  or  under- 
standing, that  I  call  an  idea  "  (IL,  8).  This  seem.s  to  me 
clearly  to  make  the  object  of  which  a  man  thinks  to  be 
within^  the  mind.     The  difficulty  in  which  Locke,  and  all 


HE  MEANT  TO   BE  A  EEALIST.  71 

metapliysicians  who  agree  with  him  in  making  the  mind 
percipient  only  of  things  within  itself,  here  faces  ns :  how 
from  an  idea  in  the  mind  can  we  get  something  out  of  the 
mind  by  any  logical  or  legitimate  process  ?  Already  ideal- 
ism has  got' an  entrance  and  great  difficulty  has  been  ex- 
perienced in  expelling  it.  It  takes  its  full  form  and 
assumes  its  full  significance  in  the  definition  of  knowledge 
in  Book  Fourth,  "  Since  the  mind  in  all  its  thoughts  and 
reasoning  hath  no  other  immediate  object  but  its  own 
ideas,  which  it  alone  does  and  can  contemplate,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  our  knowledge  is  only  conversant  about  them " 
(TV.,  1).  So  he  goes  on  to  define  knowledge  "  to  be  nothing 
but  the  perception  of  the  connection  and  agreement  and 
repugnancy  of  any  of  our  ideas.  In  this  alone  it  con- 
sists." The  common  definition  of  knowledge  is  the  agree- 
ment of  our  ideas  with  things.  But  in  Locke's  account 
things  are  left  out,  and  it  is  difficult  to  discover  how  he 
finds  things,  or  at  least  things  external  to  the  mind.  I  see 
no  way  in  which  he  can  logically  extricate  himself  from 
idealism,  which  believes  only  in  what  is  in  the  mind. 

But  Locke's  good  sense  made  him  a  very  decided  real- 
ist, in  spite  of  his  theory.  He  has  a  way  in  which  he 
reaches  a  reality  out  of  the  mind.  "  The  power  to  pro- 
duce any  idea  in  our  mind  I  call  quality  of  the  subject 
wherein  that  power  is.  Thus  a  snow-ball  having  the 
power  to  produce  in  us  the  ideas  of  white,  cold,  and  round, 
the  power  to  produce  those  ideas  in  us  as  they  are  in  the 
snow-ball  I  call  qualities  ; "  and  then  he  speaks  of  primary 
and  secondary  qualities  (IL,  8).  But  by  what  logical  pro- 
cess can  he  reach  those  qualities  in  body,  say  of  hot,  cold, 
and  round  ?  Those  qualities,  say  that  of  roundness,  are  not 
in  the  idea  which  is  not  round.  An  idea  without  roundness 
could  never  give  a  notion,  much  less  a  knowledge,  of  round- 
ness ;  any  argument  to  this  effect  would  be  a  paralogism 


72  WAS  LOCKE  AN  IDEALIST? 

and  have  more  in  the  conclusion  than  in  the  premisea 
It  is  clear  that  Locke  is  left  without  any  means  of  consist- 
ently reaching  roundness,  o:^  jmy  other  external  quality 
involving  extension.  The  pronounced  realist  is  thus  driven 
by  his  theory  into  idealism. 

But  error,  like  vice,  leads  to  evil  consequences,  which 
may  in  the  end  be  made  the  means  of  correcting  it. 
Logic  is  as  inflexible  a  disciplinarian  as  morality.  Berke- 
ley, as  we  shall  see,  carried  out  Locke's  theory  as  to  ideas 
to  its  legitimate  conclusion.  If  we  have  no  direct  percep- 
tion or  knowledge  of  external  things,  but  only  of  ideas,  it 
was  argued,  then  we  can  have  no  proof  of  the  existence  of 
anything  but  these  ideas  ;  even  if  there  be  such  gross  cor- 
poreal things  as  atoms,  molecules,  and  masses  they  could 
not  possibly  be  known  by  us.  There  is  no  need  of  sup- 
posing, certainly  not  of  believing,  that  there  are  any  such 
gross  bodies  really  existing;  every  end  supposed  to  be 
produced  by  them  may  be  accomplished  by  the  ideas. 
There  is  left  us  a  grand  ideal  world,  created  by  God,  and 
forever  in  the  vision  of  God,  who  hath  given  us  the  power 
of  contemplating  it,  and  so  operating  upon  it  as  to  gather 
experience,  and  to  act  upon  it. 

This  is  a  beautiful  speculation,  but  it  is  not  consistent 
with  consciousness,  which  shows  us  as  knowing  external 
objects.  As  the  theory  violated  our  natural  convictions, 
it  was  necessary  that  the  avenger  should  come,  and  he 
appeared  in  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature^  by  David 
Hume  (1739).  Proceeding  on,  the  principle  of  Locke, 
carried  out  by  Berkeley,  that  we  do  not  know  things,  he 
showed  that  we  have  only  impressions,  and  ideas,  the  repro- 
ductions of  them,  the  latter  being  fainter  than  the  former. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  Scottish  school,  with 
Thomas  Eeid  as  the  founder,  and  Dugald  Stewart  and 
William  Hamilton  as  its  most  distinguished  disciples,  met 


HOW  TREATED   BY  SCOTCH   SCHOOL.  73 

the  skeptic.  Eeid  tells  us  that  he  was  carried  along  by 
the  doctrine  till  he  saw  what  consequences  it  produced  in 
the  philosophy  of  Hume,  when  he  was  led  to  draw  back 
and  review  the  whole  ideal  theory.  Eeid's  own  theory  was 
hesitating  and  uncertain.  He  talked  of  sensation  suggest- 
ing a  perception,  thereby  cumbering  his  doctrine  of  im- 
mediate sense  perception.  Hamilton  corrected  this  vacil- 
lating doctrine  by  making  sense  perception  direct,  but 
then  he  unfortunately  made  all  our  knowledge  relative 
and  not  positive.  The  inquiry  needs  to  be  taken  up  at 
this  point  and  prosecuted  anew. 


SECTION  vn. 

WAS    LOCKE    A    SENSATIONALIST? 

Locke's  Essay  was  translated  into  French  at  the  beginning 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  but  was  not  much  known  till  it 
(with  Kewton's  Princijyia)  was  strongly  recommended  by 
Yoltaire  on  returning  from  his  visit  to  England.  The 
French  accepted  only  one  half  of  the  philosophy  of  the  Eng- 
lishman. The  Abbe  Condillac  in  his  Traite  des  Sensations 
labored  to  reduce  the  original  inlets  of  knowledge  to  one, 
and  thus  founded  the  sensational  school  which  prevailed  in 
France  down  to  the  end  of  last  century,  greatly  to  the  de- 
basement of  mind  and  morality.  Taking  their  views  from 
French  writers,  rather  than  from  Locke  himself,  the  Ger- 
man metaphysicians  from  and  after  Leibnitz  (who  appre- 
ciated while  he  opposed  Locke)  down  to  within  the  last 
age  spoke  of  Locke  as  a  sensationalist,  indeed  as  the  repre- 
sentative sensationalist.  But  Locke  calls  in  two  foun- 
tains of  knowledge.  His  language  is  express :  '^  The  other 
fountain  from  which  experience  furnish eth  the  understand- 
ing with-  ideas  is  the  percejotion  of  the  oj^erations  of  our  own 


74  WAS   LOCKE   A  SEN"SATIONALIST  1 

')nind  within,  as  it  is  employed  about  the  ideas  it  has  got, 
which  operations,  when  the  soul  comes  to  reflect  on  and  con- 
sider, do  furnish  the  understanding  with  another  set  of 
ideas  which  could  not  be  had  from  the  things  without,  and 
such  are  perception,  thinking,  doubting,  believing,  reason- 
ing, knowing,  willing,  and  all  the  different  actings  of  our 
own  mind,  which  we  being  conscious  of  and  observing  in 
ourselves  do  from  these  receive  into  our  understandings 
as  distinct  ideas  as  we  do  from  the  bodies  affecting  our 
senses.  This  source  of  ideas  every  man  has  solely  in 
himself,  and  though  it  be  not  sense  as  having  to  do  with 
external  objects,  yet  it  is  very  like  it  and  might  be  properly 
called  internal  sense.  But  as  I  call  the  other  sensation,  I  call 
this  reflection  "  (II.,  1).  Condillac  argued  that  as  reflection 
had  no  innate  idea  and  could  not  create  anything  of  itself, 
and  as  everything  in  the  mind  previous  to  the  exercise  of 
reflection  was  got  by  the  external  sense,  so  all  we  have  after 
can  only  be  sensations,  it  may  be  transformed — they  called 
them  transfonnes  sensations  ;  but  Locke,  whether  logically 
or  illogically,  held  that  Reflection  is  a  distinct  inlet  of  ideas, 
higher  than  those  of  the  bodily  senses.  The  mind  gets  ideas 
from  material  things  (how,  he  cannot  very  well  show,  as  it 
does  not  perceive  bodies  directly)  ;  so  it  also  gets  a  new 
kind  of  ideas  from  its  own  actings  (this  is  more  easily  un- 
derstood) as  it  observes  them.  "  The  mind  furnishes  the 
understanding  with  ideas  of  its  own  operations  "  (IL,  1). 
Upon  these,  as  we  have  seen  {swpra,  Sec.  lY.),  he  makes  the 
Faculties  to  work,  and  thus  gets,  in  a  not  very  satisfactory 
manner  {swpra^  Sec.  Y.),  our  higher  ideas.  Helvetius  and 
the  Encyclopedists  multiplied  transformed  sensations  till 
they  got  rid  of  God  and  Good  ;  so  Locke  and  his  English 
followers  fashioned  what  we  may  call  transformed  re- 
fl-ectiotiSy^iW  they  got  a  sort  of  rationalistic  theology  and 
utilitarian  morals   which  prevailed  for  several  ages.     It 


LOCKE  AN  EXPEEIENTIALIST.  75 

thus  appears  that  Locke  was  not  a  sensationalist,  as  he 
clearly  and  emphatically  makes  reflection  a  source  of  ideas, 
and  is  thus  distinguished  from  Hobbes,  from  Condillac, 
the  French  Encylopedists  and  their  whole  school.  British 
writers  have  always  felt  this. 


SECTION  Ylll. 

LOCKE    WAS    AN    EXPEEIENTIALIST, 

"While  Locke  was  not  a  sensationalist,  he  was  an  experi- 
entialist — to  adopt  a  phrase  which  has  been  conveniently 
coined  since  his  day.  It  is  his  avowed  doctrine,  "  Let  us 
then  suppose  the  mind  to  be,  as  we  say,  white  paper,  void 
of  all  characters,  without  any  ideas  ;  how  comes  it  to  be 
furnished?  Whence  has  it  all  the  materials  of  reason 
and  knowledge  ?  To  this  I  answer  in  one  word,  from  ex- 
perience. In  that  all  our  knowledge  is  founded,  and  from 
that  it  ultimately  derives  itself.  Our  observation,  employed 
either  about  external,  sensible  objects,  or  the  internal  oper- 
ations of  our  minds,  perceived  and  reflected  on  by  ourselves, 
is  that  which  supplies  our  understanding  with  all  the  ma- 
terials of  thinking  "  (IL,  1).  But  the  account  is  not  free 
from  ambiguity.  Our  observation  brings  us  all  our  knowl- 
edge, but  from  two  sources — sensation  and  reflection,  and 
these  are  prior  to  observation.  The  manufacturer  works  all 
his  own  cloth,  but  he  has  to  get  wool  to  start  with.  'Not  only 
so,  but  he  has  to  use  machines  to  weave  it.  So  it  is  with 
the  understanding,  according  to  Locke's  own  theory,  when 
fully  expanded.  All  is  from  observation,  but  it  is  the  ob- 
servation' of  something  within  and  without,  independent 
of  our  observation.  Then  it  is  by  observing  faculties, 
which  have  functions,  and  these  are  not  the  product  of  ob- 
servation.    Surely  these  might  be  called  innate.     So  far 


76  WAS   LOCKE  A   RATIONALIST? 

tlie  maxim  requires  to  be  modified  and  explained.  I  be- 
lieve this  is  wliat  Leibnitz  meant  when,  after  allowing  that 
there  was  nothing  in  the  intellect  which  was  not  previously 
in  the  senses — always,  in  Locke's  theory,  including  both 
the  external  and  internal  senses — he  adds,  nisi  intellectus 


There  is  an  ambiguity,  which  has  seldom  or  never  been 
noticed,  in  the  use  of  the  term  experience.  Sometimes  it 
means  a  mere  individual  experience,  say  the  experience  of 
anticipating  a  cause  when  we  fall  in  with  an  effect.  In 
this  sense  all  intuitions,  all  a  jjriori  principles,  fall  within 
our  conscious  experience.  These  individual  experiences,  it 
is  needless  to  show,  do  not  constitute  a  science  or  a  philos- 
ophy. But  when  from  a  number  of  individual  experiences 
we  rise  to  a  general  law,  this  is  a  different  thing,  and  this 
is  commonly  called  experience  in  speculative  philosophy. 
Locke  never  seems  to  have  inquired  what  observations 
were  required  to  establish  a  general  law.  He  does  not 
appear  to  have  ever  discovered  that  experiences,  however 
numerous,  could  not  establish  a  universal  law,  which  must 
hold  good  beyond  our  experience.  This  subject  has  had 
to  be  discussed  since  his  day  by  the  profound  minds  of 
Hume,  Kant,  and  J.  S.  Mill,  and  needs  still  to  be  cleared 
up. 


SECTION  IX. 

WAS    LOCKE    A    RATIONALIST? 

Locke's  philosophy  has  certainly  both  a  sense  side  and 
an  intellectual  side ;  both  an  experiential  and  a  rational 
element.  The  former  was  observed  and  accepted  in  France 
in  the  last  century,  and  was  observed  without  being  ac- 
cepted in  Germany.     The  latter  was  the  more  fondly  con- 


WAS  EATIONALISTIC.  77 

templated  among  English-speaking  people,  both  in  Great 
Britain  and  in  the  United  States.  In  France  his  system 
was  driven  to  sensationalism,  and  from  the  time  of  Kant 
almost  to  our  day,  he  was  called  a  sensationalist  in  Ger- 
many. ■  But  a  very  cursory  reading  of  his  works  shows 
that  Locke  was  utterly  opposed  to  sensationalism,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  it  tended  to  sensualism.  His  English  readers 
saw  this  all  along. 

In  religion  his  spirit  and  tendency  were  rationalistic.  In 
his  Bible  Commentaries,  and  in  all  his  writings,  he  treats 
the  Scriptures  wdtli  profound  reverence;  but  he  is  not 
partial  to  those  doctrines  which  do  not  commend  them- 
selves to  human  reason.  lie  recognizes  the  distinction 
drawn  by  Abelard  and  others  between  propositions  con- 
trary to  reason  and  propositions  above  reason,  and  is  will- 
ing to  admit  the  latter  when  they  clearly  have  the  authority 
of  God ;  but  he  is  opposed  to  eveiy  kind  of  enthusiasm, 
extravagance,  and  mysticism.  The  Unitarians  of  last  cen- 
tury, who  denied  the  Deity  of  Christ  and  the  Atonement, 
were  fond  of  claiming  his  name  and  quoting  his  authority. 
In  philosophic  discussion  he  gives  a  deep  place  to  intuition 
as  the  immediate  perception  of  truth.  He  allots  very  im- 
portant offices  to  the  faculties.  He  is  constantly  appealing 
to  reason,  both  as  a  discursive  process,  that  is,  reasoning, 
and  as  "the  principle  of  common  reason"  (L,  4),  and  he 
regards  mathematics  as  demonstrative,  and  would  make 
ethics  the  same.  During  the  last  age,  while  the  German 
historians  of  philosophy  were  calling  him  an  empiric  and 
a  sensationalist,  there  w^ere  British  writers  who  were  show- 
ing how  high  the  view  which  he  presented  of  the  human 
understanding,  and  what  great  truths  he  defended,  such 
as  Henry  Rogers,  in  his  Essays  ;  Professor  Bowen,  in  his 
Philosojphic  Discussions  /  and  Professor  "Webb,  in  his  In- 
tellectuolism  of  Locke, 


78  VARIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  FIRST  TRUTHS. 


SECTION  X. 

THE   RELATION   OF  LOCKE's   THEORY  TO  THE    VARIOUS   ASPECTS 
OF   FIRST   TRUTHS. 

In  the  opening  of  this  paper  I  have  called  attention  to 
three  aspects  of  primitive  or  a  priori  principles.  I  mean 
to  examine  the  chief  modern  philosophic  systems  in  the 
light  of  these  distinctions.  It  is  evident  that  Locke  did 
not  observe  the  difference  between  the  three  aspects. 

I.  He  regards  innate  ideas  mainly  as  perceptions  in  con- 
sciousness. The  original  meaning  of  the  word,  that  is,  an 
image,  likeness,  or  phantasm,  always  adheres  to  it  in  his  ap- 
prehension. "  Ideas  being  nothing  but  actual  perceptions 
in  the  mind,  which  cease  to  be  anything  ^vhen  there  is  no 
perception  of  them  "  (II.,  10)  ;  "  having  ideas  and  percep- 
tion being  the  same  thing  "  (II.,  1).  Under  this  aspect  he  is 
right  in  declaring  that  they  are  not  innate.  They  are  not 
in  the  mind  prior  to  birth  or  at  birth.  They  rise  up  as 
the  faculties  are  exercised.  They  constitute  an  individual 
experience.  Not  only  so,  but  they  cannot  transcend  the 
original  inlets  of  knowledge — whatever  these  may  be — cer- 
tainly most  of  them  may  be  traced  to  sensation  and  reflec- 
tion as  their  fountains. 

I  think  that  Locke  has  been  obliged  to  allow,  that  in  the 
exercise  of  the  faculties,  ideas  which  I  regard  as  new  are 
generated.  This  being  so,  there  may  be  perceptions,  such 
as  that  of  time  and  substance,  not  derivable  directly  from 
sensation  and  reflection.  ISTow  he  is  right  in  maintaining 
that  none  of  these  is  innate.  Herein  his  criticism  is  suc- 
cessful, ajid  it  has  delivered  philosophy  from  a  whole  host 
of  imaginary  entities  in  the  shape  of  already  formed  ideas 


RELATIOIS-   TO   REGULATIVE  PRINCIPLES.  79 

ready  to  come  fortli,  on  occasions  presenting  themselves, 
as  writing  b}'  invisible  ink  is  when  a  chemical  process  is 
applied  to  it. 

II.  The  great  omission  of  Locke  is  in  overlooking 
primitive  principles  imder  the  second  aspect  as  regulative 
principles.  It  was  in  this  light  that  they  were  viewed  by 
Aristotle  when  he  called  vdv<;  the  totto?  ivBoop  not  ev  ivreXi- 
%6ta  but  ev  Zwdfjuei.  This  was  the  view  taken  by  Des- 
cartes. "  While  I  say  that  some  idea  is  born  with  us,  or 
that  it  is  naturally  imprinted  on  our  souls,  I  do  not  under- 
stand that  it  presents  itself  always  to  our  thought,  for  there 
is  no  thought  it  does  so,  but  I  understand  that  we  have  in 
ourselv^es  the  faculty  to  produce  it.  It  was  at  this  point 
that  Locke  was  corrected  by  Leibnitz,  when  he  added  nisi 
ijpse  iiitellectus;  maintaining  that  the  intellect  is  innate 
though  the  actual  ideas  or  perceptions  are  not,  and  that 
the  innate  principles  "  are  in  us  before  we  perceive  them 
{N'ouv.-Essais^  IL,  1).  Herein,  too,  Locke  was  improved  by 
Kant,  who  places  in  the  mind  a  prior^i  principles,  ready  to 
be  imposed  on  the  objects  of  possible  experience.  Herein, 
too,  Reid  noticed  the  same  truth,  when  he  called  in  the 
principles  of  common  sense,  and  Stewart,  when  he  called 
them  fundamental  laws  of  belief.  But  whatever  defects 
there  may  be  in  Locke's  philosophy,  he  is  ready  to  express 
the  facts,  whether  they  are  reconcilable  with  his  theory  or 
not.  His  beliefs  and  his  expressions  are  often  sounder  than 
his  system.  His  honesty  leads  him  to  make  statements 
which  seem  to  be  fatal  to  his  favorite  opinions.  In  an- 
swering Mr.  Lowde,  he  says  of  supposed  innate  notions : 
"  Before  they  are  known  there  is  nothing  of  them  in  the 
mind  but  a  capacity  to  know  them  when  the  concurrence 
of  those  circumstances,  which  this  ingenious  author  thinks 
necessary  in  order  to  the  souls  exerting  them,  brings  them 
into  our  knowledge  "  (IL,  28,  foot-note). 


80  VARIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  FIRST  TRUTHS. 

III.  We  have  seen  that  our  intuitive  perceptions  may 
be  generalized,  when  thej  become  axioms  or  maxims.  So 
far  as  they  are  not  correctly  drawn  from  the  singular  ex- 
ercises they  may  be  a  source  of  error,  widening  like  the 
darkness  of  an  eclipse.  It  has  to  be  added  that  from  their 
subtle  character,  and  from  their  being  mixed  up  with  other 
and  empirical  operations  of  the  mind,  there  is  very  apt  to 
be  inaccuracies  in  the  expression  of  them,  breeding  the 
confusion  and  controversies  which  are  so  apt  to  appear  in 
metaphysics.  But  so  far  as  they  are  correctly  generalized 
they  are  as  certain  as  our  primitive  perceptions,  which  are 
founded  on  the  regulative  principles  of  the  mind,  which 
have  the  sanction  of  our  constitution  and  the  authority  of 
the  God  who  gave  us  our  constitution.  How  does  Locke's 
philosophy  stand  toward  them  ? 

First,  he  is  altogether  right  in  saying  that  under  this 
aspect  primary  truths  are  not  innate.  Locke  is  again  suc- 
cessful here,  and  in  consequence  has  carried  with  him  on 
the  general  question  multitudes  who  do  not  see  that  this 
is  not  the  whole  question,  who  do  not  see  that  there  may 
be  in  the  mind  innate  faculties  with  their  laws,  while  there 
are  no  innate  general  axioms.  Locke's  favorite  example 
in  his  First  Book  of  a  supposed  innate  principle  is  that  "  it 
is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be  at  the 
same  time."  He  shows  successfully  that  children  and  sav- 
ages, in  whom  we  might  expect  it  if  it  is  native,  have  no 
such  conscious  principle,  and  that  they  would  not  under- 
stand it  if  presented  to  them.  "  Such  kind  of  general 
propositions  are  seldom  mentioned  in  the  huts  of  Indians, 
much  less  are  they  found  in  the  thoughts  of  children  or 
any  impressions  of  them  on  the  minds  of  naturals  "  (IL,  3). 

Secondly,  he  sees  that  these  general  propositions  are 
derived  fjpm  particular  instances.  "  It  is  certain  that  not 
all,  but  only  sagacious  heads  light  at  first  on  these  observa- 


EELATION  TO  AXIOMS.  81 

tions  and  reduce  them  into  general  propositions,  not  innate, 
but  collected  from  a  preceding  acquaintance  and  reflection 
on  particular  instances  "  (I.,  2). 

Thirdly,  he  does  not  see  what  they  are  generalizations 
of.  They  are  not  generalizations  of  external  facts,  like 
those  of  natural  history  or  astronomy.  They  are  general- 
izations of  our  primitive  perceptions  which  grow  out  of  the 
innate  and  constituent  principles  of  the  mind.  On  notic- 
ing a  thing  at  a  certain  place  we  decide  that  it  cannot  be 
that  this  thing  has  passed  out  of  existence,  and  we  perceive 
that  we  would  so  decide  in  every  like  case,  and  generalizing 
our  judgments,  we  declare  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  same 
thing  to  be  and  not  to  be  at  the  same  time.  This  is  not 
like  the  ordinary  laws  of  nature  discovered  by  induction, 
say  the  law  of  gravitation,  which  may  or  may  not  hold  true 
in  all  worlds,  but  is  true  universally,  and  seen  to  be  so  by 
a  necessity  of  thought. 

Locke  is  further  right  when  he  says  that  these  maxims 
do  not  furnish  evidence  of  the  particular  instance.  "  The 
consideration  of  these  axioms  can  add  nothing  to  the  evi- 
dence or  certainty  of  its  knowledge  "  {TV.,  7).  The  trutli 
is  the  evidence  to  us  of  the  general  depends  on  the  partic- 
ular, and  not  the  evidence  of  the  particular  upon  the  gen- 
eral. "If  one  of  these  have  need  to  be  confirmed  to  him 
by  the  other,  the  general  has  more  need  to  be  let  into  his 
mind  by  the  particular  than  the  particular  by  the  general. 
Por  in  particulars  our  knowledge  begins  and  so  spreads 
itself  by  degrees  to  generals  "  (lY.,  7).  When  I  see  the 
stick  A  of  the  same  length  as  the  stick  B,  which  is  again 
of  the  same  length  as  the  stick  O,  I  judge  and  decide  at 
once  that  A  is  of  the  same  length  as  C,  without  getting 
any  assurance  from  the  axiom,  that  "  things  which  are 
equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  one  another." 

He  sees  that  the  generalized  maxims  serve  some  good 


82  YAEIOUS   ASPECTS   OF   FIRST   TRUTHS. 

purpose.  "They  are  of  use  in  the  ordinary  methods  of 
teaching  science  as  far  as  they  are  advanced.-'  "They  are 
of  nse  in  disputes  for  the  silencing  of  obstinate  wranglers 
and  bringing  those  contests  to  some  conclusion  "  (TV.,  T}. 
But  why  or  how  they  should  do  so,  unless  they  have 
authoritv  ?  and  Avhence  their  authority  except  from  our 
nature  and  constitution,  which  are  certainly  innate  ?  What 
is  thus  brought  before  us  enables. us  to  answer  a  plausible 
objection  by  Locke  which  has  led  some  to  discard  innate^ 
principles.  "jS^ot  only  those  few  propositions  w^hich  have 
had  the  credit  of  maxims  are  self-evident,  but  a  great 
many,  even  almost  an  infinite  number  of  other  propositions 
are  such,"  and  he  gives  as  examples  that  two  and  two  are 
four,  and  that  yellow  is  not  blue.  I  am  sure  that  th(^ 
number  of  such  propositions  is  almost  infinite.  They  are 
pronounced  upon  our  cognition  of  individual  things.  These 
propositions  are  all  singular.  But  we  are  at  the  trouble  to 
generalize  only  a  few  of  them  into  maxims,  such  as  the 
axioms  of  Euclid  and  of  rational  mechanics  and  generally 
metaphysical  principles.  Locke  was  tempted  by  his  aver- 
sion to  innate  ideas  of  every  kind  to  set  too  little  value 
on  these  fundamental  principles.  Being  put  in  the  form 
of  laws,  which  all  science  requires  to  be,  they  are  the  con- 
necting links  of  many  of  the  sciences,  as  for  instance  of 
the  sciences  of  quantity,  of  energy,  of  logic — where  we  have 
the  dictum  of  Aristotle,  and  of  ethics,  which  assumes  that 
wrong  differs  from  right. 


SECTION  XI. 

THE   MIND    LOOKS    AT   THINGS    THROUGH   IDEAS. 

In  this  review  I  have  sought  so  far  as  possible  to  enter 
into  the  very  thoughts  of  the  author,  and  this  even  when 
I  do  not  affree  with  them.  I  have  labored  to  look  at 
things  from  his  point  of  view  before  venturing  to  criticise 
him.  In  most  of  his  tenets  which  have  been  controverted 
since  his  time  I  partly  agree  and  partly  disagree  with 
him.  As  a  truly  honest  inquirer  he  had  commonly  a  large 
amount  of  truth  in  his  doctrines  ;  but  I  have  been  obliged 
to  point  out  incorporated  errors,  commonly  originating  in 
his  adherence  to  a  favorite  theory.  Everyone  has  noticed 
the  apparent  inconsistencies  in  his  statements ;  I  believe 
they  arise  from  his  discovering  at  times  and  acknowledg- 
ing truths  which  cannot  be  reconciled  with  his  general 
doctrine. 

It  is  clear  that  he  represents  the  mind  as  not  directly 
perceiving  things  out  of  itself.  "  'Tis  evident  the  mind 
knows  not  things  immediately,  but  only  by  the  interven- 
tion of  the  ideas  it  has  of  them  "  {TV.,  4).  His  philosophy 
proceeds  throughout  on  this  principle.  The  object  of  the 
understanding  when  it  thinks  is  an  idea.  The  mind  has 
intuitive  knowledge,  but  it  consists  in  the  perception  of 
the  immediate  agreement  or  disagreement  of  two  ideas. 
Knowledge  in  general  is  the  perception  of  the  agreement 
or  repugnance  of  ideas.  Judging  from  these  expressions 
it  looks  as  if  the  mind,  even  in  perceiving  by  reflection  its 
own  states,  does  so  by  the  intervention  of  the  ideas  it  has 
of  them.     I  have  difficulty  in  believing  that  he  meant 


84      THE   MIND   LOOKS   AT  THINGS   THROUGH   IDEAS. 

this,  but  his  language  carries  this  with  it.  "We  see  how 
necessary  it  is,  if  we  would  get  at  the  exact  truth,  to  aban- 
don the  whole  ideal  theory  of  Locke  and  to  return  to  the 
natural  theory  that  we  at  once  perceive  things. 

It  appears  to  me  that  Locke  very  much  identified  ideas 
and  things.  He  is  not  very  well  able  to  say  how  from 
ideas  in  the  mind  we  reach  things  without  the  mind.  The 
truth  is,  the  question  of  the  legitimacy  or  illegitimacy  of 
arguing  from  things  internal  to  things  external  was  not 
expressly  started  at  that  time.  He  seems,  at  times  at 
lea,st,  to  proceed  on  the  principle  of  causation ;  we  have 
an  idea  in  the  mind  and  see  that  there  is  no  cause 
within  the  mind  and  we  argue  a  cause  without  the  mind. 
But  this  proceeds  on  the  necessary  law  of  cause  and  effect, 
which  is  not  justified  by  his  experiential  theory.  It  is 
supposed  that  we  argue  from  an  idea  to  an  external  object 
believed  to  be  extended.  But  there  is  no  extension  in  the 
idea,  and  we  caimot  logically  argue  from  an  unextended 
effect  to  an  extended  object,  for  this  would  place  in  the 
conclusion  an  entirely  new  object  not  in  the  premise.  He 
regards  the  primary  ideas  of  bodies  as  resemhlcmced  of  the 
ideas,  but  how  can  he  know  that  they  are  so  unless  he  has 
known  both  and  compared  them  ?  Altogether  it  is  clear 
to  me  that  Locke  left  this  whole  subject  of  the  relation  of 
the  objective  external  state  to  the  subjective  idea  in  an 
uncertain  state.  Since  his  day  it  has  passed  through  the 
idealism  of  Berkeley  and  the  skepticism  of  Hume  ;  Reid 
and  Hamilton  have  sought  to  bring  it  back  to  a  natural 
I'calism,  while  Kant,  and  of  a  later  date  Spencer,  have 
introduced  ea'ch  of  them  new  and  important  elements. 
AYe  st'ill  need  to  have  the  subject  cleared  up  ;  and  this 
T  am  convinced  will  be  done  sooner  or  later,  though  it 
will  be  a  difficult  work.  A  statement  with  a  critical 
examination   of  the  opinions  of  the  great  thinkers  now 


HE  BELIEVES   IN  THIIN'GS.  85 

named,  and  a  judicious  criticism,  may  help  to  secure  this 
end. 

Meanwhile  we  have  an  important,  principle  held  by 
Locke,  which  has  been  overlooked  by  others,  and  which, 
as  it  appears  to  me,  ought  to  be  brought  into  prominence 
in  the  present  state  of  the  discussion.  He  has  no  very 
satisfactory  way  of  reaching  things,  but  when  he  reaches 
them  he  holds  that  our  perceptions,  our  faculties  generally, 
our  intuitions,  our  reason,  all  look  to  things.  Kant,  in 
this  respect,  instead  of  advancing  beyond  Locke,  has  fallen 
behind  him.  The  German  philosopher  did  improve  upon 
the  English  one  when  he  showed  that  there  were  in  the 
mind  ajpriori  principles  anterior  to  experience.  But  then 
he  made  these,  not  perceptions  of  things,  but  forms  im- 
posed upon  our  perceptions  of  objects,  adding  to  them  and 
modifying  them.  In  this  respect  he  has  been  followed  by 
Hamilton.  It  is  time  to  repudiate  this  Kantian  doctrine 
^nd  return  to  tlie  natural  system  which  makes  our  primi- 
tive perceptions  contemplate  things.  Locke  meant  to 
hold  this  system  :  "  Had  they  examined  the  ways  whereby 
men  come  to  the  knowledge  of  many  universal  truths  they 
would  have  found  them  to  result  in  the  minds  of  men 
from  the  heing  of  things  themselves  when  duly  considere(?  " 
(L,  4). 


SECTION  xn. 

GENERAL   REVIEW   OF   LOCKe's    PHILOSOPHY. 

I.  We  see  what  he  denies  :  all  innate  ideas.  Under  this 
he  asserts  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  mind  at  its  birth  ;  it 
is  a  sheet  of  white  paper.  In  attacking  the  views  that 
were  commonly  entertained  in  his  day  he  did  philosophy 
much  service.     He  was  successful   in  showing  that  the 


SQ       GENERAL   EEVIEW   OF   LOCKE'S   PHILOSOPHY. 

mind  was  not  born  with  a  set  of  ideas,  in  the  sense  of  per 
ceptions  actually  formed  or  ready  to  come  forth  on  occa- 
sion. He  was  evidently  right  in  holding  that  the  mind 
has  not  an  original  repository  of  abstract  and  general  no- 
tions, such  as  those  of  space,  of  time,  of  infinity,  and  moral 
good.  He  showed  that  all  general  notions  and  maxims 
were  formed  out  of  particular  instances  by  the  exercise  of 
the  faculties. 

On  the  other  hand  he  carried  his  negations  too  far. 
Even  a  sheet  of  paper,  though  it  has  no  characters,  has 
properties  without  which  there  could  be  no  writing  on  it. 
So  it  is  with  the  mind ;  it  has  certain  powers  which  are 
native,  which,  indeed,  might  be  called  innate.  These 
powers  have  rules  and  limits ;  thej^  can  do  certain  work ; 
in  short,  they  are  laws  or  principles.  A  tabula  rasa^  or 
blank  paper,  is  not  the  fittest  emblem  of  them.  Leibnitz 
has  a  better.  It  is  not,  he  says,  merely  like  bare  marble ; 
it  is  like  marble  with  veins  in  it,  fitting  it  to  become  a 
statue,  say  of  Hercules.  It  has  "  inclinations,  dispositions, 
habitudes,  and  natural  virtualities "  (Nouv.-Ess.,  Pref.). 
Locke,  as  we  have  seen,  is  obliged  constantly  to  appeal  to 
judgments  which  the  mind  pronounces  at  once,  and  which 
are  necessary.  These  show  that  there  are  innate  regulat- 
ing principles  in  the  mind,  supporting  and  guaranteeing 
great  truths. 

II.  Locke  has  two  gi-and  inlets  of  knowledge — sensation 
and  reflection.  But  he  has  also  faculties  operating  npon 
these,  such  as  perception,  discernment,  comparison,  com- 
position, abstraction.  These  actually  form  our  ideas. 
Locke  has  not  been  able  to  state  very  clearly  the  relation 
between  these  inlets  and  the  faculties.  "What,  for  instance, 
is  the  difference  between  sensation  as  an  inlet,  and  percep- 
tion as  directed  to  the  ideas  supposed  to  be  introduced  by 
sensation  5     Do  they  not,  in  fact,  perform  the  same  func- 


IDEAS  AND  THINGS.  87 

tion,  namely,  give  us  a  knowledge  of  bodily  objects  ?  It 
lias  been  shown  above  that  the  faculties  in  their  exercise 
give  us  new  ideas,  such  as  those  of  time  and  moral  good, 
which  cannot  be  had  from  either  sensation  or  reflection,  or 
from  the"  two  combined.  It  is  clear  that  in  a  correct  phil- 
osophy the  inlets  and  the  faculties  should  not  be  sepa- 
rated— they  should  be  combined ;  and  the  faculties  should 
be  so  unfolded  and  determined  as  to  settle  for  us — w^hat 
Locke  was  so  anxious  to  do — the  boundaries  of  our  intel- 
lectual vision,  and  let  every  man  "  know  the  length  of  his 
tether." 

III.  Iso  man  has  seen  more  clearly  than  Locke  that  our 
primitive  perceptions  are  all  individual.  We  perceive  of 
these  two  straight  lines  that  they  cannot  enclose  a  space; 
that  the  shortest  distance  between  these  two  points  is  a 
straight  line.  Locke  also  sees  that  our  general  maxims  are 
formed  out  of  these  particular  instances,  but  he  does  not 
see  precisely  how  this  is  done.  In  fact  it  is  accomplished 
by  the  generalization  of  the  singular  exercises.  We  per- 
ceive of  these  two  straight  lines  that  they  cannot  enclose 
a  space,  and  we  discover  that  we  would  say  the  same  of 
every  other  two  lines,  and  so  reach  the  general  truth. 
Locke  acknowledges  that  these  generalized  maxims  serve 
some  useful  purposes,  particularly  in  settling  forever  some 
disputed  points.  But  he  does  not  see  how  they  accomplish 
such  ends.  It  is  because,  w^hen  properly  generalized,  they 
are  the  expression  of  the  constitutional  principles  of  the 
mind,  looking  at  things,  and  pronouncing  a  judgment  as 
to  what  is  involved  in  things. 

lY.  Locke  had  great  difficulty  in  reaching  realities. 
The  mind  perceived,  and  retained,  and  compared  only 
ideas,  and  he  had  no  legitimate  way  of  arguing  from  these 
ideas  in  the  mind  any  external  things.  His  theory  seemed 
to  imply  that  the  mind  itself  was  only  perceived  by  ideas 


88  NOTICE  OF  BERKELEY. 

coming  in  by  reflection.  But  Locke  was  in  fact  a  deter- 
mined realist,  believing  in  both  mind  and  body,  and  that 
he  knew  tilings.  Thus  he  made  all  our  primitive  percep- 
tions, all  our  intuitions,  our  knowledge,  and  our  common 
reason  to  look  at  things  and  all  judgments  to  be  pro- 
nounced about  things. 


NOTICE  OF  BERKELEY. 

George  Berkeley  was  born  March  12,  1685,  in  the  vale 
of  the  Nore,  near  Thomastown,  in  County  Kilkenny,  in 
the  south  of  Ireland.  In  ITOO  he  entered  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  where  his  favorite  studies  were  mathematics  and 
metaphysics.  He  began  while  there  A  Commonjplace 
Booh^  in  which  we  see  as  in  a  glass  the  rise  and  develop- 
ment of  the  new  views  which  rose  up  in  his  mind.  He 
became  tutor  in  the  family  of  Dr.  William  Molyneux,  a 
great  admirer  of  Locke,  and  was  introduced  to  the  Essay 
on  Human  Understanding ^  which  had  become  famous. 
The  other  philosophical  writers  studied  by  him  seem  to 
have  been  Descartes,  Hobbes,  Malebranche,  and  he  must 
have  known  the  works  of  Peter  Brown,  Provost  of 
Trinity  College,  and  of  King,  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  In 
1709  he  published  his  Essay  totoard  a  new  Theory  of 
Vm.o?iy  in  which  he  showed  that  the  eye  is  not  immedi- 
ately percipient  of  distance.  He  afterward  lived  for  some 
time  in  England,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  such 
men  as  Samuel  Clarke,  Addison,  Steele,  Swift,  and 
Arbuthnot,  and  took  a  tour  on  the  continent  of  Europe. 
He  returned  to  Ireland  in  1721,  and  became  Dean  of  Derry 
in  1721.  He  was  now  seized  with  an  impulse  to  set  up  a 
universh:y  in  Bermuda  to  Christianize  the  Indians,  and 


LIFE  AND   CHAEACTEE.  89 

persuaded  the  government  to  favor  his  scheme  and  a  num. 
ber  of  influential  people  to  subscribe  funds.  In  prosecu- 
tion of  this  scheme  he  sailed  for  America,  and  landed  at 
E'ewport,  in  Ehode  Island,  in  1729.  He  lived  for  some 
years  in  a  house  in  the  neighborhood  still  standing,  and 
was  a  favorite  with  those  who  came  in  contact  with  him  ; 
but  not  being  able  to  carry  out  his  Bermuda  purpose  he  re- 
turned to  his  own  country  and  was  made  Bishop  of  Cloyne. 
At  this  period  of  his  life  he  strongly  recommended  the  vir- 
tues of  tar-water,  which  he  mixes  up  with  his  philosophic 
theories.  In  his  declining  life  he  retired  to  Oxford  and 
became  enamored  with  the  Platonic  philosophy,  toward 
which  he  had  always  been  tending,  even  when  he  was  un- 
der the  influence  of  Locke.     He  died  in  1753. 

It  is  not  very  diflicult  to  estimate  the  intellectual  calibre 
and  the  character  of  Berkeley.  From  an  early  date  he 
was  addicted  to  dreamy  reflection.  "  I  was  distrustful  at 
eight  years  old,  and  consequently  by  nature  disposed  for 
these  new  doctrines."  In  gazing  so  intently  into  the 
spiritual  world  the  material  covering  was  lost  sight  of. 
He  was  possessed  of  great  acuteness  and  ingenuity,  but 
was  not  distinguished  for  good  sense  or  shrewdness.  The 
fact  is,  Berkeley  was  a  visionary  in  everything.  His  Ber- 
muda project  and  his  belief  in  tar- water  were  not  wilder 
than  his  philosophy.  It  is  amusing  meanwhile  to  observe 
how  he  claimed  to  be  so  practical.  He  convinced  British 
statesmen  of  great  shrewdness,  by  an  array  of  calculations, 
that  the  best  way  of  converting  the  Indians  and  of  Chris- 
tianizing the  continent  of  America  was  by  a  college  insti- 
tuted at  Bermuda.  By  an  undiscerning  agglomeration  of 
facts  he  convinced  numbers  in  his  own  day,  and  he  has 
had  believers  in  Ireland  almost  to  our  day,  that  tar- water 
could  cure  all  manner  of  diseases.  In  like  way  he  per- 
suaded himself  that  his  philosophy  is  the  expression  of 


90  NOTICE   OF   BEEKELEY. 

vulgar  belief  and  the  perfection  of  common-sense.  He 
professes  "  to  be  eternally  banishing  metaphysics  and  recall- 
ing men  to  common-sense,"  "to  remove  the  mist  and  veil 
of  words,"  and  to  be  "  more  for  reality  than  other  philoso- 
phers." 

His  style  is  acknowledged,  on  all  hands,  to  be  graceful 
and  attractive.  He  avoids,  as  Locke  does,  all  scholastic  and 
technical  phrases.  As  Locke  affected  the  style  of  the 
conversation  which  he  had  heard  among  the  upper  classes, 
so  Berkeley  adopted  the  style  of  the  literature  of  his  day, 
that  is,  of  the  wits  of  Queen  Anne.  This  mode  of  com- 
position has  its  disadvantages.  If  it  has  the  ease  of  conver- 
sation and  literature,  it  has  also  the  looseness.  Berkeley 
confesses  that  he  is  by  no  means  very  precise  in  his  use  of 
language  :  "  Blame  me  not  if  I  use  my  words  sometimes 
in  some  latitude  ;  this  is  what  cannot  be  helped.  It  is 
the  fault  of  language  that  you  cannot  always  apprehend 
the  clear  and  determinate  meaning  of  my  words."  His 
editor  complains  of  "the  chronic  tendency  to  misconceive" 
Berkeley's  philosophy.  His  admirers  are  ever  telling  us 
that  he  has  been  misunderstood,  and  in  particular  that  his 
opponents  of  the  Scottish  school,  such  as  Baxter,  Reid, 
Beattie,  and  Stewart,  do  not  apprehend  his  meaning.  His 
opponents  are  apt  to  feel,  if  not  to  say,  that  his  specula- 
tions are  so  undefined  that  any  one  may  form  the  shape 
that  suits  him  out  of  the  cloud.  Those  attacking  him  sup- 
pose that  he  denies  the  existence  of  matter  ;  those  defend- 
ing him  maintain  that  he  holds  resolutely  by  the  existence 
of  matter.  But  surely  there  is  some  defect  in  a  philo- 
sophic writer'who  has  so  expounded  his  doctrine  that  it 
is  forever  misunderstood  by  able  and  candid  minds.  With 
all  these  imperfections  we  feel  that  some  of  his  works, 
such,  for  instance,  as  Three  Dialogues  'between  Phylas 
and  Phuonous^  are  the  finest  philosophic  dialogues  in  the 


THEOEY   OF  VISION.  91 

English  tongue,  and  are  worthy  of  being  placed  alongside 
those  of  Plato/ 

I  am  now  to  examine  the  chief  points  in  his  philosophy, 
60  far  as  they  relate  to  Locke,  who  preceded  him,  and  to 
Hume,  who  professed  to  carry  out  his  principles. 

Theory  of  Vision. — Berkeley  is  best  known  in  connec- 
tion with  this  theory,  which  he  expounded  in  his  Essay 
toward  a  New  Theory  of  Vision  (1709)  and  defended  in 
his  Theory  of  Vision  Vindicated  and  Exjplained  (1T33), 
and,  indeed,  in  most  of  his  works.  Professor  Fraser  is  of 
the  opinion  that  in  respect  of  his  theory  he  has  not  so 
much  originality  as  is  commonly  attributed  to  him.  "  He 
takes  the  invisibility  of  distance  in  the  line  of  sight  for 
granted  as  a  common  scientific  truth  of  the  time."  It  is 
well  known  that  there  were  notices  by  Descartes  of  the 
way  by  which  the  eye  perceives  distances,  and  Malebranche 
specifies  some  of  the  signs  by  which  distance  is  estimated. 
William  Molyneux,  in  a  treatise  on  optics,  published  in 
1690,  declared  that  distance  of  itself  is  not  to  be  perceived, 
for  "  'tis  a  line  or  a  length  presented  to  the  eye  with  its 
end  toward  us,  which  must  therefore  be  only  a  point  and 
that  is  invisible  "  (I.,  17) ;  and  then  he  shows  that  distance 
is  chiefly  perceived  by  means  of  interjacent  objects,  by  the 
estimate  we  make  of  the  comparative  magnitude  of  bodies 
or  their  faint  colors :  this  for  objects  considerably  remote  ; 
as  to  nigh  objects  their  distance  is  perceived  by  the  turn 
of  the  eyes  or  the  angle  of  the  optic  axis.  Locke,  in  the 
fourth  edition  of  his  Essay,  mentions  a  problem  put  to  him 
by  Molyneux,  whether,  if  a  cube  and  a  sphere  were  placed 
before  a  blind  man  who  was  made  to  see,  he  would  be  able 


'  The  standard  edition  of  Berkeley's  works  is  The  Works  of  Georga 
Berkeley,  D.B.,  4  vols.,  by  Professor  Alexander  Campbell  Fraser.  See, 
by  the  same  author,  Selections  from  Berkeley  and  Berkeley,  in  the  "Phil- 
osophic Classics." 


92  IfOTICE   OF   BERKELEY. 

to  tell  which  is  the  globe  and  which  the  cube,  to  which 
both  Molyiieux  and  Locke  answered  ''  not."  These  state- 
ments by  well-known  philosophers  were  known  to  all  in- 
terested in  such  studies  before  Berkeley's  work  appeared. 
But  the  JYew  Theory/  of  Vision  treated  of  the  subject 
specially  and  in  a  more  elaborate  way,  and  has  commonly 
got  the  credit,  not  certainly  of  originating  the  doctrine, 
but  of  establishing  it.  Professor  Fraser  has  shown  that 
Berkeley  all  along  meant  his  views  as  to  vision  to  establish 
a  far  more  important  princi])le,  that  by  all  the  senses  we 
perceive  only  signs  of  mental  realities,  a  doctrine  cherished 
by  him  from  an  early  date,  but  kept  in  the  background  in 
his  early  work. 

Idea. — Berkeley  takes  the  word  not  in  the  sense  of 
Plato  or  the  schoolmen,  but  in  that  of  Descartes  and  Locke, 
specially  the  latter.  The  literal  meaning  always  stuck  to 
it  in  Locke's  apprehension,  and  breeds  inextricable  confu- 
sion, lie  liabitually  regards  the  object  of  the  mind  when 
it  thinks  as  an  idea  in  the  sense  of  image.  lie  supposes 
there  is  such  an  image  when  w^e  use  the  senses,  even  such 
senses  as  smelling  and  hearing,  and  he  seeks  for  such  an 
image  when  we  think  of  space,  time,  and  eternity.  He 
sees  the  difficulty  in  the  mind  forming  an  idea — in  this 
sense — of  the  product  of  abstraction  and  generalization. 
He  acknowledges  that  it  doth  "  require  some  pains  and 
skill  to  form  this  general  idea  of  a  triangle,"  "  for  it  must 
be  neither  oblique  nor  rectangle,  neither  equilateral,  equi- 
crural,  nor  scalenum,  but  all  and  none  of  these  at  once.  In 
effect  it  is  somewhat  imperfect  that  cannot  exist ;  an  idea 
wherein  some  parts  of  several  different  and  inconsistent 
ideas  are  put  together."  Upon  this  Berkeley  remarks : 
*'  After  reiterated  efforts  and  pangs  of  thought  to  appre- 
hend the  general  idea  of  a  triangle,  I  have  found  it  alto- 
gether incomprehensible  "  (I.,  146).     "  The  idea  of  a  man 


ABSTRACT   AND   GENERAL   IDEAS.  93 

that  I  frame  to  myself,  must  be  either  of  a  white,  or  a 
black,  or  a  tawny,  or  a  straight,  or  a  crooked,  a  tall  or  a 
low,  or  a  middle-sized  man  "  (I.,  142).  Here,  as  in  so 
many  other  cases,  he  has  sharpness  enough  to  detect  the 
errors  of  the  prevailing  philosophy,  but  not  clearness  or 
comprehension  enough  to  set  it  right.  He  would  use  the 
word  as  Locke  had  done :  "I  take  the  word  idea  for  any 
of  the  immediate  objects  of  sense  or  understanding  "  (I., 
55).  But  then  this  object  is  an  image  :  ''  By  idea  I  mean 
any  sensible  or  imaginable  thing  "  (lY.,  457).  "  Properly 
speaking  it  is  the  picture  of  the  imagination's  making. 
This  is  the  likeness  of  and  referred  to  the  real  idea  or  (if 
you  will)  thing"  (445).  He  rejects,  as  I  believe  he  ought, 
abstract  ideas  in  the  sense  of  Locke,  that  is,  in  the  sense 
of  images  of  qualities ;  and  he  claims  it  as  his  merit  that 
he  gets  rid  in  this  way  of  those  grand  abstractions,  such 
as  matter  and  substance,  existence  and  extension,  space 
and  time,  to  which  philosophers  have  given  an  indepen- 
dent being,  and  set  up  as  rivals  to  Deitj^  But  while  he 
has  exposed  the  errors  of  Locke,  he  has  not  established  the 
positive  truth.  It  turned  out  that  David  Hume,  taking 
advantage  of  his  doctrine,  undermined,  by  a  like  process, 
the  separate  existence  of  personal  identity  and  power,  of 
mind  and  morality. 

Abstract  mid  General  Ideas. — His  defective  views  on 
this  subject  perplexes  his  whole  philosophj^  He  takes 
credit  for  removing  abstractions  out  of  speculation  that  we 
may  contemplate  realities.  And  it  is  quite  true  that  we 
cannot  form  an  abstract  idea  in  the  sense  of  likeness  or 
phantasm.  "We  cannot  form  in  the  mind  an  image  of 
whiteness  as  we  do  of  a  lily,  of  redness  as  we  do  of  a  rose, 
of  humanity  as  we  do  of  man.  We  have  to  bring  in  here 
the  distinction  known  to  Aristotle,  between  phantasm 
(image)  and  noema  (notion).     An  abstract  is  not  2i,^hanr 


94  NOTICE   OF  BERKELEY. 

tasm^  an  exorcise  of  the  mere  reproductible,  recalling  or 
imao'ing  power  of  the  mind ;  but  a  notion^  the  product 
of  the  elaborative  or  discursive — of  the  comparative  powers, 
in  fact — specially  of  the  power  which  perceives  the  rela- 
tion of  part  and  whole,  of  an  attribute  to  that  concrete 
object  of  which  it  is  an  attribute.  Having  seen  a  lily  I 
can  ever  afterward  image  the  lily — this  is  the  phantasm 
of  Aristotle.  But  I  can  exercise  another  mental  operation 
regarding  it,  and  the  product  is  the  noema  of  Aristotle  :  I 
can  consider  its  whiteness  and  not  its  shape  or  size,  and 
when  I  do  so  I  have  an  abstract  notion  about  w^iich  I 
can  pronounce  judgments  and  reason.  On  rare  occasions 
Berkeley  had  a  glimpse  of  what  is  involved  in  abstraction, 
as  in  his  Principles  of  Human  Knoioledge :  "  And  here 
it  must  be  acknowledged  that  a  man  may  consider  a  figure 
merely  as  triangular  without  attending  to  the  particular 
qualities  of  the  angles  or  relations  of  the  sides.  So  far 
he  may  abstract ;  but  this  will  never  prove  that  he  can 
frame  an  abstract  general  inconsistent  idea  [in  the  sense 
of  image]  of  a  triangle.  In  like  manner  we  may  consider 
Peter  so  far  forth  as  man,  so  far  forth  as  animal,  without 
framing  the  forementioned  abstract  idea  [image],  either 
of  man  or  animal ;  inasmuch  as  all  that  is  perceiv^ed  is  not 
considered  "  (I.,  148).  He  says  that  "  there  is  a  great  dif- 
terence  between  considering  length  without  breadth,  and 
liaving  an  idea  or  of  imagining  length  without  breadth.-' 
Speaking  of  the  qualities  abstracted  he  acknowledges  that 
"  it  is  not  difficult  to  form  general  propositions  and  reason- 
ings about  these  qualities  without  mentioning  any  other  " 
(T.,  284).  Had  he  taken  as  much  pains  in  unfolding  what 
is  contained  in  "  considering "  a  figure  as  triangular,  and 
Peter  as  man,  without  considering  other  qualities  and  what 
is  involve^  in  "  forming  general  propositions  and  reason- 
ings about  qualities,"  as  he  has  taken  to  expel  abstract 


ABSTRACT  AND   GENERAL  IDEAS.  95 

ideas  in  the  sense  of  phantasms,  he  would  have  saved  his 
own  philosophy,  and  philosophy  generally  from  his  day  to 
this,  from  an  immense  conglomeration  of  confusion. 

Much  the  same  mav  be  said  of  the  General  Idea,  which 
Locke'  confounded  with  the  Abstract  Idea,  under  the 
phrase  abstract  general  idea.  These  two  evidently  differ. 
An  abstract  notion  is  the  notion  of  an  attribute,  a  general 
notion  is  a  notion  of  objects  possessing  a  common  attri- 
bute, or  common  attributes.  We  cannot  form,  in  the 
sense  of  likeness,  a  general  idea.  An  image,  as  Berkeley 
saw,  must  always  be  singular,  whereas  a  general  notion, 
the  notion  of  a  class,  must  embrace  an  indefinite  number 
of  individuals,  all  that  possess  the  quality  or  qualities 
which  bring  the  objects  into  a  class.  There  can  be  no 
phantasm  formed  of  the  individuals  in  the  class,  which 
are  innumerable,  nor  of  the  attributes,  which  are  abstracts. 
At  times  he  had  a  glimpse  of  what  is  implied  in  a  general 
idea,  but  he  does  not  pursue  it,  and  he  speedily  loses  sight 
of  it.  "  Kow,  if  we  will  annex  a  meaning  to  our  words, 
and  speak  only  of  what  we  can  conceive,  I  believe  we  shall 
acknowledge  that  an  idea,  which  considered  in  itself  is  par- 
ticular, becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent  or  stand 
for  all  other  particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort "  (I.,  145).  But 
what  constitutes  the  sort  and  the  same  sort  f  Had  he  pro- 
ceeded to  answer  this  question  he  might  have  found  the 
exact  truth.  A  sort  is  composed  of  things  assorted,  and 
assorted  because  possessing  a  quality  or  qualities  in  common, 
and  must  embrace  all  the  objects  possessing  the  quality  or 
qualities.  In  looking  at  the  things  thus  assorted,  we  see 
that  the  affirmations  we  make  apply  to  all  and  each  of  the 
objects  of  the  class,  so  that  when  a  geometrician  draws  a 
black  line  of  an  inch  in  length,  "  this,  which  is  in  itself  a 
particular  line,  is  nevertheless,  in  regard  to  its  signification, 
general,  since,  as  it  is  there  used,  it  represents  all  particu- 


96  NOTICE   OF  BEEKELEY. 

lar  lines  whatsoever,  so  that  what  is  demonstrated  of  it  is 
demonstrated  of  all  lines,  in  other  words,  of  a  line  in 
general "  {ib.).  This  is  the  general  idea  I  stand  up  for,  and 
I  hold  that  it,  and  the  abstract  idea  as  above  described, 
may  be  niade  the  object  of  the  understanding  when  it 
thinks,  and  that  we  can  pronounce  judgments  upon  it,  and 
reason  about  it.  This  is,  in  fact,  what  we  do  in  mathe- 
matics and  in  all  the  sciences. 

While  he  set  himself  in  an  indiscriminating  manner 
against  abstract  general  ideas,  Berkeley  was  not,  as  he  has 
been  commonly  represented,  a  nominalist.  His  aim  was  to. 
carry  us  away  both  from  abstracts  and  names  to  individual 
things.  According  to  him  "  ideas  become  general  by  a 
particular  idea  standing  for  all  the  ideas  of  the  sort,"  and 
so,  "  certainly  it  is  not  impossible  but  a  man  may  arrive  at 
the  knowledge  of  all  real  truth  as  well  without  as  with 
signs,  had  he  a  memory  and  imagination  more  strong 
and  capacious,"  and  therefore  "  reasoning  and  science  doth 
not  altogether  depend  on  word  or  names  "  (lY.,  467). 

Existence. — In  every  intelligent  exercise  we  know  our- 
selves as  existing  in  a  particular  state,  say  thinking  or  will- 
ing. Our  knowledge  of  ourselves  and  the  particular  state, 
say  thinking,  are  mixed  up,  but  we  can  so  separate  them 
as  to  consider  ourselves  as  existing.  This  does  not  show 
that  our  existence  depends  on  our  perception.  We  per- 
ceive ourselves  to  exist  because  we  already  exist.  So  far 
as  external  objects  are  concerned,  we  perceive  them  by  the 
eye  as  extended  and  colored,  but  we  can,  if  we  choose, 
consider  them  as  existing  apart  from  the  color,  apart  even 
from  our  perception  of  them.  Of  course  our  perception 
is  implied  in  our  perceiving  them  ;  but  this  does  not  prove 
that  our  perception  is  necessary  to  their  existence.  In  fact 
we  perceiv^  them  because  they  exist.  Unwilling  to  admit 
abstractions  of  any  kind,  Berkeley  argued  that  the  objects 


EXISTENCE.  97 

could  not  exist  apart  from  the  perception  ;  lience  his 
maxim,  esse  est  jpercipi.  I  admit  that  a  thing  perceived 
must  exist ;  but  this  does  not  imply,  according  to  the  rules 
of  logic,  the  converse  proposition,  that  a  thing  in  order  to 
exist  must  be  perceived.  I  allow  percij>i  est  esse,  but  not 
esse  est 2>ercij)i.  There  were  rocks  deposited  in  our  earth 
before  there  was  a  man  to  perceive  them.  We  may  be- 
lieve that  at  this  moment  there  are  flowers  in  forests  which 
have  never  been  trod  by  human  foot.  The  external  thing, 
be  it  matter  or  be  it  idea,  must  exist  in  order  to  my  per- 
ceiving it — it  is  esse  before  it  \s>  jjercijyl. 

But  then  he  explains  that  he  does  not  mean  that  in 
order  to  the  existence  of  a  thing  it  must  be  perceived  by 
the  individual,  it  may  be  perceived  by  other  finite  beings, 
it  must  be  perceived  by  God.  But  this  admission  implies 
that  in  order  to  its  existence  it  is  not  necessary  that  we 
should  perceive  it ;  in  other  words,  the  thing  may  exist  in- 
dependent of  our  perception  of  it.  "  I  will  grant  you  that 
extension,  color,  etc.,  may  be  said  to  be  without  the  mind 
in  a  double  respect ;  that  is,  independent  of  our  will  and 
distinct  from  the  mind  "  (IV.,  667).  And  if  it  exist  inde- 
pendent of  our  perception  it  may  exist  independent  of  the 
perception  of  other  created  beings.  There  is  nothing, 
then,  in  the  nature  of  our  perception,  considered  in  itself, 
implying  that  the  existence  of  the  object  implies  percep- 
tion. Berkeley  speaks  as  if  the  existence  of  a  thing  inde- 
pendent of  mind  is  meaningless  and  contradictory  ;  is 
repugnant,  as  he  expresses  it.  But  surely  I  can  conceive 
of  a  thing  as  existing  out  of  and  independent  of  the  mind 
perceiving  it,  and  if  there  be  evidence  I  can  believe  it  to 
exist.  True,  if  I  believe  it  to  exist  on  reasonable  ground, 
I  must  have  perceived  it  myself,  or  have  the  testimony  of 
some  one  who  has  perceived  it.  But  then  I  can  conceive 
it  to  exist  whether  I  have  perceived  it  or  no  ;  whether,  in- 


98  NOTICE    OF   BERKELEY. 

deed,  I  believe  in  its  existence  or  no.  In  all  this  there  ia 
nothing  self -repugn  ant.  "  But,  then,  to  a  Christian,  it 
cannot  surely  be  shocking  to  say  that  the  real  tree  existing 
without  his  mind  is  truly  known  and  comprehended  by 
(that  it  exists  in)  the  infinite  mind  of  God  "  (I.,  330). 
That  everything  is  known  to  God  and  comprehended  by 
his  infinite  mind  will  be  admitted  by  all  Christians,  by  all 
who  believe  in  an  omnicient  God.  But,  then,  this  does 
not^ follow  from  the  nature  of  perception,  but  from  our 
belief  derived  otherwise  of  the  guardian  care  of  God,  a 
belief  most  readily  obtained  when  we  acknowledge  the 
reality  of  external  objects.  Observe  how  dextrously  he 
slides  from  one  meaning  of  comprehension,  from  the 
meaning  "  embraced  in  the  understanding,"  to  "  exist  in," 
which  is  an  entirely  different  thing.  1  comprehend  the 
deed  of  a  son  murdering  his  father,  but  this  does  not  make 
the  deed  exist  in  me.  Not  only  so,  but  I  hold  it  to  be  in 
every  w^ay  most  reverent,  not  to  speak  of  that  deed  of 
murder  as  existing  in  the  mind  of  the  good  God.  Berkeley 
often  w^rites  as  if  it  were  not  possible  for  God  to  make  a 
thing,  having  an  existence  out  of  himself,  with  any  power 
in  itself.  This,  surely,  is  a  limitation  of  the  divine  power 
by  no  means  very  reverential.  Believing  the  plunging  of 
the  knife  into  the  bosom  of  the  murdered  man  to  exist  out 
of  me,  I  believe  it  to  be  most  becoming  to  represent  it  as 
also  existing  out  of  God. 

lie  is  greatly  alarmed  for  the  consequences  which  might 
follow,  provided  it  is  admitted  that  there  can  be  existence 
independent  of  perception.  "  Opinion  that  existence  was 
distinct  from  perception  of  horrible  consequence.  It  is 
the  foundation  of  Ilobbes'  doctrine  "  (IV.,  459).  But  fact 
and  truth  never  lead  to  evil  consequences,  which  errors, 
even  well-meant  errors,  commonly  do.  The  good  bishop 
never  dreamed  that  his  favorite  principle  would  furnish  a 


MATTEE.  99 

starting-point  to  Hume.  I  have  noticed  passages  in 
Berkeley  which  look  as  if  they  might  have  suggested  the 
basis  of  Hume's  skeptical  theory.  Hume  opens  his  Trea- 
tise of  Hwnaih  Nature :  "  All  the  perceptions  of  the 
human  riiind  resolve  themselves  into  two  distinct  kinds, 
wdiich  I  call  impressioiis  and  ideas.  The  difference  be- 
twixt these  consists  in  the  degrees  of  force  and  liveliness 
with  which  they  strike  upon  the  mind  and  make  their  way 
into  our  thought  or  consciousness.  Those  perceptions 
which  enter  wdth  most  force  and  violence  we  may  name 
impressions ;  and  under  this  name  I  comprehend  all  our 
sensations,  passions,  and  convictions  as  they  make  their  first 
appearance  in  the  soul.  By  ideas^  I  mean  the  faint  images 
of  these  in  thinking  and  reasoning."  Might  not  the  whole 
doctrine,  and  the  language  employed,  and  the  distinction 
drawn,  have  risen  up  in  his  shrewd,  unsatisfied  mind  as  he 
read  at  the  close  of  a  long  discussion  in  the  Principles : 
"What  do  we  perceive  besides  our  ideas  and  sensations?" 
(I.,  157).  He  specifies  the  very  distinction  between  the 
two,  the  one  more  lively,  the  other  more  faint.  ''  The  ideas 
of  sense  are  more  strong,  lively,  and  distinct  than  those  of 
imagination  "  (170).  "  The  ideas  imprinted  in  the  senses 
by  the  author  of  nature  are  called  real  things,  and  those 
excited  in  the  imagination  being  less  regular,  vivid,  and 
constant  are  more  commonly  termed  ideas"  (172).  Hume 
thus  got  his  very  phraseology,  im/pressions  (from  imprinted) 
and  ideas,  and  the  distinction  between  the  two,  as  lying  in 
the  difference  of  force  or  strength,  liveliness  or  distinctness. 
Hume  accepted  the  bishop's  doctrine  and  drove  it  logi- 
cally to  a  conclusion  which  did  not  admit  of  an  argument 
for  the  existence  of  a  God  to  uphold  these  impressions  or 
sensations  and  ideas. 

Matter. — The  whole  philosophy  of  Locke  proceeds  on 
the  supposition  that  we  perceive  only  ideas.     His  theory 


100  Ts^OTICE   OF  BERKELEY. 

of  knowledge  is  a  movement  in  a  circle.  An  idea  is  the 
object  we  perceive  ;  the  object  we  perceive  is  an  idea. 
This  idea  was  regarded  by  him  as  an  image  of  an  object 
out  of  the  mind  which  it  resembles  and  represents.  But 
it  was  perceived  at  an  early  date  that  he  had  and  could 
have  no  proof  of  this,  indeed  no  proof  of  the  existence 
of  matter.  Man  can  take  no  immediate  cognizance  of 
matter ;  and  logic  will  not  allow  us  from  a  mere  idea  in 
the  mind  to  argue  the  existence  of  something  beyond  the 
mind.  This  was  the  condition  of  speculative  philosophy 
in  Great  Britain  when  Berkeley  thought  out  his  ingenious 
theoiy.  He  saw  it  to  be  very  unsatisfactory,  if  the  mind 
can  perceive  nothing  but  the  idea,  to  argue  that  there  must 
be  a  material  object  of  which  it  is  a  copy.  So  he  boldly 
declared  we  are  not  required  to  believe  in  anything  but 
the  idea.  All  that  we  perceive  is  the  idea.  We  have  no 
proof  of  the  existence  of  anything  else.  If  there  be  any- 
thing else  it  nnist  be  unknown.  Every  purpose  that  could 
be  served  by  this  supposed  external  thing  may  be  accom- 
plished by  the  idea.  "If,  therefore,  it  w^ere  possible  for 
bodies  t6  exist  without  the  mind,  yet  to  hold  they  do  so 
must  be  a  very  precarious  opinion,  since  it  is  to  suppose, 
without  any  reason  at  all,  that  God  has  created  innumer- 
able beings  that  are  utterly  useless  and  serve  no  manner 
of  purpose.  In  short,  if  there  were  external  bodies,  it  is 
impossible  we  should  ever  come  to  know  it ;  and,  if  it  were 
not,  we  might  have  the  very  same  reason  to  think  that 
there  were  that  we  have  now  "  (I.,  165).  Berkeley  thus 
started  what  Hamilton  would  call  a  presentation  theory  of 
sense-perception  ;  that  is,  that  the  mind  looked  directly  on 
the  object,  the  object  with  him,  however,  being  the  idea 
with  nothing  beyond.  Keid  followed:  discovering  that 
Locke  c(^uld  never  reach  the  existence  of  matter  by  a  pro- 
cess of  reasoning,  he  insisted  that  the  existence  of  matter 


MATTEE.  101 

was  suggested  by  instinct,  intuition,  or  common-sense, 
there  being  first  a  sensation,  this  instinctively  raising  a 
perception  of  an  external  thing.  Hamilton  took  a  bolder 
and  a  more  direct  course  than  Eeid  :  discarding,  as  Reid 
had  done,  the  idea  of  Locke  and  of  Berkeley  ;  and  discard- 
ing, too,  the  suggestion  of  Keid,  he  asserted  that  we  look 
directly  on  matter,  are  immediately  conscious  of  matter. 
Hamilton,  like  Berkeley,  is  a  presentationist ;  but  Berke- 
ley says  that  the  object  before  the  mind  is  an  idea, 
whereas  Hamilton  says  it  is  a  material  object  possessing 
extension. 

At  this  point  it  is  of  all  things  the  most  important  to 
determine  in  what  sense  Berkeley  admits,  and  in  what 
sense  he  denies,  the  existence  of  matter.  He  is  ever 
asserting,  and  asserting  in  strong  language,  that  he  believes 
in  the  existence  of  bodies.  Yet  he  speaks  constantly  of 
his  aim  being  to  expel  matter  from  the  universe:  "Were 
it  necessary  to  add  any  further  proof  against  the  existence 
of  matter  "  (I.,  16  a.nd _passim).  But  he  is  a  firm  upholder 
of  the  existence,  not  of  abstract  matter,  but  of  individual 
bodies  :  "  I  do  not  argue  against  the  existence  of  any  one 
thing  that  we  can  apprehend,  either  by  sense  or  reflection. 
That  the  things  I  see  with  my  eyes  and  touch  with  my 
hands  do  exist,  really  exist,  I  make  not  the  least  question. 
The  only  thing  whose  existence  we  do  deny  is  that  which 
philosophers  call  matter  or  corporeal  substance."  In  the 
interests  of  religion  he  is  tremulously  afraid  of  allowing 
the  existence  of  matter  as  a  substance.  "  Matter  once 
allowed,  I  defy  any  man  to  prove  that  God  is  not  matter" 
{IV.,  442) ;  as  if  matter  did  not,  like  mind,  supply  evidence 
of  the  existence  of  its  maker  and  disposer.  He  is  for  ex- 
pelling the  substance,  matter,  to  which  some  were  attrib- 
uting an  existence  independent  of  God ;  but  infidels  in  our 
day  are  quite  ready  to  make  a  like  use  of  matter  con- 


102  NOTICE  OF   BEEKELEY. 

sidered  as  a  mere  phenomenon  :  they  argue  that  it  does 
not  need  a  God  to  support  it.  He  is  right,  so  I  think,  in 
maintaining  that  in  regard  to  body  we  should  not  be  re- 
quired to  believe  in  more  than  we  can  perceive  by  the 
senses,  more  than  we  see,  and  feel,  and  taste,  and  smell, 
and  hear.  But  then  we  perceive  by  the  senses  much  more 
than  he  is  disposed  to  allow.  He  means  by  idea  "  any 
sensible  or  imaginable  thing."  An  idea  must  be  in  the 
mhid,  so  he  argues  that  the  whole,  perception  and  thing 
perceived,  must  be  in  the  mind.  "  The  tree  or  house, 
therefore,  which  you  think  of  is  conceived  by  you." 
"What  is  conceived  is  surely  in  the  mind  "  (I.,  291,  292). 
"  Nothing  properly  but  persons,  i.e.^  conscious  things,  do 
exist.  All  other  things  are  not  so  much  existences,  as 
manners  of  the  existence  of  persons ;  "  on  which  Profes- 
sor Fraser  asks,  "  Is  an  extended  thing  a  mode  in  which 
a  person  exists  ?  "  (lY.,  469).  He  showed  in  his  Ne'w 
Theory  of  Vision  that  color  is  in  the  mind,  and  then,  in 
his  Princifples  and  later  works,  that  extension,  as  an  idea, 
must  also  be  in  the  mind.  Professor  Fraser  thus  expounds 
him,  I  believe  fairly  :  "When  we  do  our  utmost  by  imagin- 
ation to  conceive  bodies  existing  externally  or  absolutely, 
we  are,  in  the  very  act  of  doing  so,  making  them  ideas, 
not  of  sense  indeed,  but  of  imagination.  The  supposition 
itself  of  their  individual  existence,  makes  them  ideas,  inas- 
much as  it  makes  them  imaginary  objects,  dependent  on 
an  imagining  mind  "  (L,  123).  Still  he  stands  np  for  the 
reality  of  body  :  "  The  table  I  write  on  I  say  exists,  that  I 
see  and  feel  it,  and  if  it  were  out  of  m.y  study  I  should  say 
it  existed,  meaning  thereby,  that  if  I  was  in  my  study  I 
might  perceive  it,  or  that  some  other  spirit  does  actually 
perceive  it"  (L,  157).  This  is  the  very  theory  which, 
passing  through  Hume  and  James  Mill,  has  been  elabo- 
rated By  John  Stuart  Mill  into  the  doctrine  of   matter 


EXTEI^SION  PEKCEIYED  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH.    103 

"being  the  "  possibility  of  sensations."  Every  man  of  ordi- 
nary sense  on  first  hearing  this  doctrine  will  be  inclined  to 
say,  there  must  surely  be  some  mistake,  some  confusion 
here,  and  this  whether  he  is  able  to  point  it  out  or  not. 
The  misconceptions,  I  believe,  are  to  be  rectified  by  an  in- 
ductive inquiry  into  what  the  senses  really  reveal.  Look- 
ing simply  to  the  testimony  of  our  senses  they  make 
known  something  out  of  us  and  independent  of  us.  In 
particular  we  know  body  as  extended,  we  see  it  as  extended 
in  two  dimensions,  we  feel  it  as  with  three  dimensions. 
'No  doubt  there  is  perception  in  all  this,  but  perception 
is  not  extended  in  any  sense,  in  one,  two,  or  three  dimen- 
sions. We  perceive  it  as  something  different  from  our 
perception,  and  we  perceive  it  as  having  something  not  in 
our  perception,  we  perceive  it,  in  short,  as  extended.  This 
is  an  intuition  carrying  within  itself  its  own  evidence.  A"S 
being  self-evident  it  can  stand  the  test  of  contradiction : 
we  cannot  believe  the  opposite  ;  we  cannot  be  made  to  be- 
lieve that  the  table  before  me  has  not  length  and  breadth. 
It  is  also  catholic  or  universal,  as  being  in  all  men.  Just 
as  by  the  internal  sense  we  know  mind,  so  by  the  external 
senses  we  know  matter.  The  evidence  for  the  existence 
of  the  one  is  much  the  same  as  the  evidence  for  the  exist- 
ence of  the  other.  AA^e  cannot  allow  the  one  to  set  aside 
the  other.  "We  must  accept  both,  and  I  defy  any  one  to 
show  that  there  is  any  repugnancy  between  them. 

Extension  jya^'ceived  hy  Sight  and  Touch. — He  puzzles 
himself  and  puzzles  his  editor  greatly  by  his  favorite 
maxim,  that  we  do  not  see  the  same  extension  by  the  eye 
and  by  the  touch.  "  The  objects  of  sight  and  touch  are 
two  distinct  things  "  (I.,  56).  Professor  Fraser  seems  to 
go  further,  "  colored  extension  is  antithetical  to  felt  exten- 
sion." The  peqilexity  arises  from  not  observing  precisely 
what  we  do  perceive  by  means  of  these  two  senses,     ^y 


104  NOTICE   OF   BERKELEY. 

the  eye  we  do  not  perceive  abstract  extension,  but  an  ex- 
tended thing.  It  is  the  same  with  touch,  we  do  not  per- 
ceive mere  extension,  we  perceive  an  extended  thing.  By 
a  subsequent  act  of  comparison,  we  may  discover  the  two, 
tlie  extended  table  seen  and  touched,  to  be  the  same  thing. 
Surely  there  is  no  antithesis  here,  any  more  than  there  is 
between  seeing  first  one  side  of  a  building,  and  then 
another  side,  between  seeing  the  one  side  of  a  shield  red, 
and  the  other  black.  By  each  of  the  senses  we  get  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  information,  which  we  combine  in  the  one 
thing,  which  we  discover  to  have  extension,  discovered  both 
by  the  eye  and  by  touch.  Certainly  the  knowledge  given  by 
the  touch  in  our  ordinary  apprehension  of  sensible  objects 
mingles  with  that  given  by  the  eye,  and  indeed  with  that 
given  by  all  the  senses,  and  we  superadd  to  all  these  the 
inferences  which  we  have  drawn.  To  intuitive  perception 
by  the  eye  a  mountain  is  but  a  colored  surface  with  a  defi- 
nite outline ;  but  we  combine  in  it  all  that  we  have  known 
about  mountains  by  touch  and  a  gathered  experience,  that 
green  is  grass,  that  other  green  is  a  tree,  that  brown  is  a 
scar,  and  that  sharp  outline  a  precipice.  There  is  no  con- 
tradiction in  all  this. 

Suhstaiice. — It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Berkeley 
should  have  been  dissatisfied  with  Locke's  doctrine  on  this 
subject.  Locke  denies  very  strongly  and  emphatically 
that  he  sets  aside  substance,  and  he  is  very  angry  at  his 
opponent,  Stillingfleet,  when  he  says  that  he  does  so.  He 
believes  in  substance ;  but  then  it  can  be  made  known 
neither  by  sensation  nor  reflection,  and  so  it  comes  in  very 
awkwardly  in  a  system  which  acknowledges  no  other  inlets 
of  knowledge  than  these  two.  It  is .  the  unknown  sub- 
stratum or  support  of  what  is  known.  Berkeley  did  great 
service  to  philosophy  by  removing  these  crutches  supposed 
to  help,  but  really  hindering,  our  conviction  as  to  the 


SUBSTANCE.  105 

reality  of  things.  "  Say  you  there  might  be  a  thinking 
substance — something  unknown  which  perceives  and  sup- 
ports and  ties  together  the  ideas.  Say,  make  it  appear  that 
there  is  need  of  it,  and  you  shall  have  it  for  me  ;  I  care  not 
to  take  away  anything  I  can  see  the  least  reason  to  think 
should  exist "  (IV.,  443).  I  have  always  regretted  that 
Reid  and  the  Scottish  school,  in  discarding  the  "  idea ''  of 
Locke  as  coming  between  the  thing  perceived  and  percep- 
tion, did  not  also  abandon  the  "  substance  "  of  Locke  as 
being  equally  useless  and  cumbersome.  Berkeley  seems 
to  me  to  be  farther  and  pre  eminently  right  when  he  main- 
tains, in  regard  to  matter,  that  we  are  to  believe  only  in 
what  is  made  known  by  the  senses.  "  That  the  things 
I  see  with  my  eyes  and  touch  with  my  hands  do  exist, 
really  exist,  I  make  not  the  least  question.  The  only  thing 
whose  existence  we  deny  is  that  wdiich  philosophers  call 
matter  or  corporeal  substance.  And  in  doing  of  this  there 
is  no  damage  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  who,  I  dare  say,  will 
never  miss  it.  The  atheist,  indeed,  will  want  the  color  of 
an  empty  name  to  support  his  impiety  ;  and  the  philoso- 
phers may  possibly  find  that  they  have  lost  a  great  handle 
for  trifling  and  disputation  "  (I.,  173).  I  am  glad  to  find 
him  saying  farther,  as  if  he  had  a  reference  to  a  mode 
of  speaking  in  our  day :  "  The  philosophers  talk  much 
of  a  distinction  betwixt  absolute  and  relative  things, 
considered  in  their  own  nature,  and  the  same  things  con- 
sidered with  respect  to  us.  I  know  not  what  they  mean 
by  '  things  considered  in  themselves.'  This  is  nonsense, 
jargon."  I  have,  however,  endeavored  to  show  that  Berke- 
ley did  not  discover  all  that  is  involved  in  perception  by 
the  senses. 

But  is  Matter  a  Substance  ?  The  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion must  depend  on  the  definition  which  we  give  of 
substance.     There  is  a  sense,  and  this  I  believe  the  proper 


106  NOTICE   OF   BEEKELEY. 

sense,  in  which  both  mind  and  matter  are  snbstances.  It 
can  be  shown  of  botli  that  they  exist.  It  can  be  shown, 
secondly,  of  both,  of  matter  as  well  as  mind,  that  they  are 
not  created  by  om*  perceiving  them.  We  perceive  matter 
because  it  already  exists.  It  exists  whether  we  perceive 
it  or  no.  It  does  not  cease  to  exist  because  we  have 
ceased  to  look  at  it.  In  this  sense  it  has  an  independence, 
not,  it  may  be,  of  God,  but  an  independence  of  the  perci- 
pient mind,  of  our  perception  of  it.  I  am  prepared  to 
maintain  that  matter,  like  mind,  has  power  of  some  kind. 
I  do  not  assert  that  it  has  power  independent  of  God — 
this  is  a  question  which  carries  us  into  a  much  higher 
region  than  our  primitive  perceptions.  What  I  affirm  is, 
that  it  has  potency,  influence  of  some  kind.  ]^ow  com- 
bine these  three  things :  being,  independence  of  our  per- 
ceptions, and  potency,  and  we  have  the  true  idea  of  sub- 
stance. Thus  understood,  substance  has  no  need  of  a 
substratum  or  support.  Under  God,  who  may  himself  be 
understood  as  a  substance,  it  is  its  own  support ;  and  any 
other  support  would  be  a  weakness.  Everything  possess- 
ing these  three  things  may  be  regarded  as  a  substance. 
Mind  is  a  substance,  for  it  has  being,  independence,  and 
power.  But  matter  is  also  a  substance  for  the  very  same 
reasons. 

Power. — His  views  on  this  subject  are  vague  and  un- 
satisfactory. He  seems  to  regard  all  power  as  in  God. 
He  leaves  no  power  whatever  in  body.  "  Matter  neither 
acts,  nor  perceives,  nor  is  it  perceived."  The  first  question 
here  is :  Is  it  true  ?  Can  we  prove  it  ?  I  believe  we 
know  things  in  this  world,  we  know  ourselves  as  having 
power,  and  bodies  as  having  power  upon  each  other.  I 
believe  them  to  have  such  power  in  our  primitive  cognition 
of  them.  Experience  confirms  this.  According  to  Berke- 
ley there  is  no  relationship  between  material  things,  except 


POWER.  107 

that  of  coexistence  and  succession :  one  thing  is  a  mere 
sign  of  another,  and  an  arbitrary  sign.  These  ideas  which 
constitute  all  we  perceive,  can  have  no  influence  on  each 
other.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  we  are  led  to  believe 
that  they  do  act  on  each  other.  It  can  be  shown  that  in 
all  bodily  actions  there  are  two  or  more  agents.  A  ham- 
mer strikes  a  stone  and  breaks  it :  the  cause  consists  of  the 
hammer  and  stone  each  in  a  certain  state  ;  the  effect  con- 
sists of  the  same  hammer  and  stone  in  another  state,  the 
hammer  having  lost  the  momentum  which  it  had  when  it 
came  in  contact  with  the  stone,  and  the  stone  being 
broken.  It  seems  plain  to  me  that  the  cause  here  is  not  a 
mere  arbitrary  sign  of  the  effect ;  the  effect  is  the  result  of 
powers  or  properties  of  the  agent.  A  second  question  may 
arise :  What  is  the  religious  bearing  of  such  a  doctrine  ? 
According  to  it  God  ^*'  useth  no  tool  or  instrument  at  all " 
(I.,  312) ;  there  are  no  second  causes  in  nature,  but  only 
natural  signs.  There  is  "  no  sharing  betwixt  God  and 
nature  or  second  causes  in  my  doctrine."  Is  there  not  a 
risk  that  this  very  pious  doctrine  land  us  in  the  very  im- 
pious conclusion,  that  if  all  action  is  of  God,  sinful  action 
must  also  be  of  him  ?  If  we  have  no  knowledge  of  power 
in  nature  or  in  created  mind,  have  we  any  proof  of  the 
existence  of  power  in  God  ?  The  doctrine  was  eagerly 
seized  by  Hume,  w^ho  showed  that  according  to  it  the 
mind  could  form  no  idea  of  power  beyond  a  custom  of  ex- 
pecting that  things  which  have  been  unvariably  together 
in  our  experience  w^ill  continue  to  be  together.  Left 
without  the  idea  of  power  in  the  cognition  of  ourselves  or 
earthly  objects,  we  have  really  no  ground  except  this 
same  custom,  carried  illegitimately  beyond  our  experience, 
(which  can  give  us  no  knowledge  of  world-making)  for 
arguing  the  existence  of  God  from  his  works  in  nature. 
Signs. — The  great    truth  which   Berkeley   helped  to 


108  ISTOTICE  OF  BEEKELEY. 

establish,  that  distance  can  be  known  by  the  eye  only  by 
means  of  signs  supplied  by  touch,  opened  new  views, 
w^hich  he  carried  out  further  than  he  was  logically  entitled. 
From  the  beginning  he  meant  to  use  the  theory  of  vision, 
to  establish  his  favorite  principle  that  we  do  not  perceive 
extended  things  out  of  the  perceiving  mind  :  we  perceive 
merely  the  signs  of  things.  What  the  eye  discerns  is 
merely  the  sign  of  something  else  discovered  by  touch. 
"  We  see  distances  as  we  see  shame  or  anger  in  the  looks 
of  a  friend  "  (I.,  63).  In  his  later  works  he  carries  out  the 
same  principle  to  touch,  ari4  shows  that  it  makes  known 
simply  heaven-appointed  and  heaven-organized  symbols 
of  reality  beyond.  But  this  view  involves  a  mistake  in 
starting,  and  a  want  of  logic  in  the  process.  It  is  not  cor- 
rect to  say  that  the  eye  does  not  immediately  discover  ex- 
tended body  ;  it  looks  directly  on  an  extended  colored 
surface.  The  eye  may  need  the  ai^  of  the  muscular  sense 
to  reveal  space  in  three  dimensions,  but  it  at  once  per- 
ceives space  in  two  dimensions  ;  and  we  are  thus  put  in  a 
position  to  understand  the  farther  information  conveyed 
by  touch.  Our  secondary  knowledge  implies  primary 
knowledge,  and  the  elements  of  the  secondary  knowledge 
must  be  found  in  the  primary.  If  there  be  the  idea  of 
extension  in  the  derived  knowledge,  there  must  have  been 
the  idea  of  extension  in  the  original  knowledge.  The 
looks  of  a  man  reveal  shame  and  anger,  because  we  already 
know  these  by  self-consciousness.  Signs  cannot  reveal  to 
us  anything  not  otherwise  known  in  its  materials.  We 
certainly  have  the  idea  of  an  extended  thing,  and  this 
could  never  be  made  known  to  us  by  a  sign  which  was  not 
itself  extended.  Signs  are  merely  the  antecedents  or  con- 
comitants of  things  which  we  are  enabled  to  conceive  be- 
cause wesknow  them  otherwise.  Little  did  Berkeley  see  in 
arguing  that  we  only  see  signs  of  things,  that  he  was  pre- 


MIND.  109 

paring  the  way  for  the  avenging  skeptic,  who  allows  the  ex- 
istence of  the  signs,  but  argues  with  David  Hume  and 
Herbert  Spencer  that  the  things  signified  are  unknown 
and  unknowable. 

Lofty"  minds  are  apt  to  be  particularly  fascinated  with 
the  doctrine  that  nature  is  a  system  of  universal  symbol- 
ism. I  believe  as  firmly  as  Berkeley  ever  did,  that  it  is 
so ;  I  believe  with  him  that  "  the  methods  of  nature  are 
the  language  of  its  author  "  (I.,  211).  But  I  do  so  because 
the  signs  are  real  things,  signs  of  other  things.  If  the 
glass  is  visionary  the  things  seen  through  it  will  be  apt  to 
be  regarded  as  also  visionary.  As  he  advanced  in  life  and 
enjoyed  leisure  in  the  bishopric  of  Cloyne,  he  eagerly 
turned  to  the  study  of  Plato  and  the  Neo-Platonists,  and 
embodied  the  results  in  his  Siris,  a  Chain  of  Philosophi- 
cal Reflections  and  Inquiries  C07icerning  the  Virtues  of 
Tar -Water. 

Mind. — Our  author  is  very  valiant  in  making  inroads 
into  the  territories  of  his  enemies;  but  meanwhile  he 
leaves  his  own  domain  defenceless.  "  There  is  not  any 
other  substance  than  spirit,  or  that  which  perceives."  But 
it  is  very  difficult  to  tell  us  what  he  makes  of  spirit. 
Professor  Fraser  acknowledges,  "  Berkeley  has  no  clear 
teaching  about  finite  minds — egos  as  distinguished  from  the 
Ego'^'^  (IV.,  638).  Berkeley  tells  us,  "  the  very  existence 
of  ideas  constitutes  the  soul."  "  Consult,  ransack  the  un- 
derstanding ;  what  find  you  there  besides  several  percep- 
tions or  thoughts  ?  Mind  is  a  congeries  of  perceptions. 
Take  away  perceptions  and  you  take  away  the  mind. 
Put  the  perceptions  and  you  put  the  mind  "  (lY.,  438). 
Every  one  acquainted  with  the  history  of  philosophy  will 
perceive  that  this,  the  doctrine  with  which  the  young 
Berkeley  started,  is  the  very  doctrine  which  Hume  reaches : 
"  Certainly  the  mind  always  and  consttotly  thinks,  and 


110  NOTICE   OF   BERKELEY. 

we  know  tliis  too.  In  sleep  and  trances  the  mind  exists 
not,  there  is  no  time,  no  succession  of  ideas"  (lY., 
444).  Ko  wonder  the  editor  sajs,  "  As  to  personal  identity 
he  is  obscure."  I  would  rather  say,  he  is  clearly  wrong. 
He  tells  us  again  and  again  that  mind  or  spirit  is  "  not 
knowable,  not  being  an  idea "  (IV.,  462) ;  a  doctrine  far 
lower  than  that  of  Locke,  who  maintains  that  we  have  an 
idea  of  mind  by  means  of  Reflection.  "  I  have  no  idea  of 
a  volition  or  act  of  the  mind ;  neither  has  any  other  intel- 
ligence, for  that  were  a  contradiction  "  (lY.,  446).  He 
seeks  to  save  himself  from  palpably  absurd  consequences 
by  drawing,  in  the  second  edition  of  his  Prinoijples  of 
Hainan  Knowledge,  the  distinction  between  Idea  and 
IS'otion  (taking  the  phrase,  I  believe,  from  Bishop  Browne) : 
"  It  must  be  admitted,  at  the  same  time,  that  we  have 
some  notion  of  soul  or  spirit,  and  the  operations  of  the 
mind,  such  as  willing,  loving,  hating,  inasmuch  as  we 
know  or  understand  the  meaning  of  these  words  "  (I.,  170). 
But  he  never  accurately  defined  what  he  meant  by  Notion ; 
and  his  wliole  philosopliy  is  left,  in  consequence,  in  an  un- 
satisfactory condition. 

In  digging  away  the  ground  on  which  error  has  rested, 
I  do  not  believe  that  Berkeley  has  left  to  himself  a  foun- 
dation on  which  to  build  a  solid  philosophy.  "I  approve," 
he  says,  "  of  this  axiom  of  the  schoolmen,  Nihil  est  in  in- 
tellectub  quod  own  prius  fuit  in  sensu.  I  wish  they  had 
stuck  to  it.  It  had  never  taught  them  the  doctrine  of  ab- 
stract ideas  "  (lY.,  457).  His  editor  is  evidently  staggered 
with  "  this  remarkable  statement,"  and  does  not  know 
very  well  what  to  make  of  it.  His  doctrine  on  this  sub- 
ject is  a  great  deal  lower  than  that  of  Locke,  who  made 
reflection  as  well  as  sensation  an  inlet  of  ideas,  such  as 
those  of  ^ime,  and  power,  and  spirit,  by  which  he  so  far 
counteracted  the  sensational  tendency  of  his  philosophy. 


MIKD.  Ill 

Berkeley  is  often  appealing  to  intuition  and  reason  in  up- 
holding his  own  favorite  maxims,  such  as  that  there  can- 
not be  matter  without  mind,  but  has  left  no  explanation 
of  the  nature  and  laws  of  these  ultimate  principles,  or  de- 
fence of  their  legitimacy.  His  negative  appeal  is  to  some 
"  repugnancy,"  he  does  not  tell  us  to  what.  These  defects 
in  the  foundation  are  not  to  be  repaired  by  abutments  in 
the  superstructure.  There  is  a  like  defect  in  his  ethical 
principles.  "  Sensual  pleasure  is  the  summuin  honum. 
This  is  the  great  principle  of  morality.  This  once  rightly 
understood,  all  the  doctrines,  even  the  severest  of  the 
gospels,  may  clearly  be  demonstrated.  Sensual  pleasure, 
qicd  pleasure,  is  good  and  desirable  by  a  wise  man.  But 
if  it  be  contemptible  'tis  not  qua  pleasure  but  qxid  pain  ; 
or  (which  is  the  same  thing)  of  loss  of  greater  pleasure  " 
(lY.,  457).  This  is  a  vastly  more  degraded  view  than  that 
taken  by  Shaftesbury,  of  whom  he  speaks  so  disparagingly. 
We  see  how  much  need  there  was  in  that  age  of  a  Butler 
to  give  a  deeper  foundation  to  morality  than  Locke  or 
Berkeley  had  done.  There  is  greater  need  of  a  Butler 
than  of  a  Berkeley  in  our  time. 

His  view  of  space  and  time  is  thus  rendered  by  his 
editor :  "  Finite  Space  is,  with  him,  experience  in  unre- 
sisted organic  movement  which  is  capable  of  being  symbol- 
ized in  the  visual  consciousness  of  coexisting  colors.  Finite 
Time  is  the  apprehension  of  changes  in  our  ideas,  length 
of  time  being  measured  by  the  number  of  changes.  In- 
finite Space  and  Infinite  Time,  because  inapprehensible  by 
intelligence,  are  dismissed  from  philosophy  as  terms  void 
of  meaning,  or  which  involve  contradictions"  (I.,  117).  If 
our  natural  judgments  were  not  meant  to  deceive  us  tliere 
must  be  vastly  more  than  this  in  Time,  Space,  and  Infinity, 
say,  the  Infinity  of  God. 


113  NOTICE  OF  BEEKELET. 

There  is  a  very  general  impression  that  the  philosophy 
of  Berkeley  is  favorable  to  religion.  That  he  meant  it  to 
be  so  is  certain ;  that  many  have  felt  it  to  be  so  should  not 
be  denied.  Taken  apart  from  his  speculations  about  tar- 
water  and  the  non-existence  of  matter,  the  general  influ- 
ence of  his  writings  is  inspiring  and  ennobling,  carrying 
us  above  the  damp  earth  into  the  empyrean,  where  we 
breathe  a  pure  and  delicious  atmosphere.  His  Minute 
Philosopher  is  distinguished  by  great  acuteness,  a  lofty 
tone,  and  an  alluring  charm  of  manner  and  of  style.  The 
speakers  appointed  to  oppose  religion  do  not  argue  so 
searchingly  as  the  objecting  interlocutors  do  in  Plato's 
dialogues ;  but  they  bring  forward  the  current  objections 
of  the  age,  and  the  answer  to  them  is  complete.  But  our 
present  inquiry  is.  What  is  the  tendency  of  his  system  ? 
And,  whatever  may  be  the  immediate  impression  produced 
by  it,  the  influence  of  a  philosophy  is  determined  by  its 
logical  consequences,  which  will  come  to  be  wrought  out 
by  some  one.  Hume  declares  that  most  of  Berkeley's 
writings  "  form  the  best  lessons  of  skepticism  which  are 
to  be  found  either  among  the  ancient  or  modern  philoso- 
phers— Bayle  not  excepted,"  and  he  gives  the  reason, 
"  they  admit  of  no  answer  and  produce  no  conviction." 
Hume  certainly  labored  with  all  his  might  (and  he  was  a 
mighty  man)  to  make  Berkeley  teach  lessons  of  skepticism. 
If  bodies  have  an  existence  merely  as  perceived,  people 
will  argue  that  it  may  be  the  same  with  spirits;  and 
Berkeley  virtually  allows  the  consequence.  If  matter  has 
no  substantial  existence,  why  may  it  not  be  the  same  with 
mind  ?  And,  if  so,  what  remains  but  Hume's  sensations 
and  ideas  ?  Berkeley  imagined  he  was  getting  new  and 
special  proof  of  the  Divine  existence  by  his  doctrine  of 
signs;  bu^  Hume  came  after  him  and  showed  that  the 


MIND.  113 

signs  suggested  things  beyond  them  merely  by  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas ;  merely  by  a  phenomenon  of  sight  suggesting 
a  phenomenon  of  touch  ;  in  fact  merely  by  the  two  hav- 
ing been  together.  In  particular,  he  showed  that  two 
sensations,  with  an  interval  between,  gendered  the  illu- 
sive feeling  of  the  continued  existence  of  the  sentient 
agent. 


II 

AGNOSTICISM  OF  HUME  AND  HUXLEY,  WITH 

A  NOTICE  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL 

AND  NOTES  ON  J.  S.  MILL 


PART  FIRST. 

DAVID    HUME 
SECTION  I. 


In  the  winter  of  the  year  1723  there  entered  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh  a  boy  under  twelve  years  of  age  (he  was 
born  April  26,  1711),  who  in  his  future  life  was  to  under- 
mine all  previous  modern  speculative  thinking,  and  con- 
strain philosophy  to  begin  to  build  anew.  This  was  David 
Hume,  son  of  Joseph  Hume  or  Home,  advocate,  but 
who  passed  his  life  as  a  country  gentleman  at  Ninewells, 
near  the  borders  of  England.  Entering  college  when  he 
should  have  been  at  school,  he  was  introduced,  after  getting 
an  imperfect  acquaintance  with  Latin  and  Greek,  in  the 
classes  of  logic,  pneumatics,  and  moral  philosophy,  to  sub- 
jects fitted  only  for  men  of  matured  powers  and  enlarged 
knowledge.  I  suspect  there  was  no  ruling  mind  among 
his  teachers  to  sway  him,  and  he  was  left  to  follow  the 
bent  of  his  own  original  and  searching  intellect. 

"VYe  have  two  accounts  of  Hume's  life,  the  one  an  auto- 
biography. My  Own  Life,  the  other  by  Mr.  Hill  Burton, 
who  had  access  to  the  papers  collected  by  Baron  Hume 
and  deposited  with  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh.^ 

*  In  tliis  paper  I  have  made  use  of  the  larger  article  on  Hume  in  my 
Scottish  Philosophy,  Biographicaly  Expository,  and  Critical. 


118  '  DAVID   HUME. 

"  I  was  seized  very  earlj,"  he  says  in  My  Own  Life^ 
"  with  a  passion  for  literature  which  has  been  the  ruling 
passion  of  my  life,  and  a  great  source  of  my  enjoyments.'- 
In  writing  to  a  friend,  July  4, 1727,  he  mentions  having  by 
him  written  papers  which  he  will  not  make  known  till  he 
has  polished  tliem,  and  these  evidently  contain  the  germs 
of  a  system  of  mental  philosophy.  He  had  to  pass  through 
a  singular  experience,  which  he  details  in  a  letter  written, 
though  probably  never  sent,  to  a  physician,  supposed  by 
Mr.  Burton  to  be  Dr.  Cheyne,  author  of  the  PJiilosoj>hical 
Princvples  of  Eatural  Religion^  and  a  work  on  "  ]!^ervous 
Diseases."  He  begins  with  stating  that  he  had  alwaj^s  a 
strong  inclination  to  books  and  letters,  and  that  after 
fifteen  years  he  had  been  left  to  liis  own  choice  in  reading. 
''  I  found  it  to  incline  almost  equally  to  books  of  reasoning 
and  philosophy,  and  to  poetry  and  the  polite  authors. 
Ever}'  one  who  is  acquainted  either  with  the  philosophers 
or  critics  knows  that  there  is  nothing  yet  established  in 
either  of  these  sciences,  and  that  they  contam  little  more 
than  endless  disputes  on  the  most  fundamental  articles. 
Upon  examination  of  these  I  found  a  certain  boldness  of 
temper  growing  in  me  which  was  not  inclined  to  submit 
to  any  authority  on  these  subjects,  but  led  me  to  seek  out 
some  new  medium  by  which  truth  might  be  established. 
After  much  study  and  reflection  on  this,  at  last,  when  I  was 
about  eighteen  years  of  age,  there  seemed  to  be  opened  up  to 
me  a  new  scene  of  thought  which  transported  me  beyond 
measure,  and  made  me,  with  an  ardour  natural  to  young 
men,  throw  up  every  other  pleasure  or  business  to  apply 
entirely  to  it*.  The  law,  which  was  the  business  I  designed 
to  follow,  appeared  nauseous  to  me,  and.  I  could  think  of  no 
other  way  of  pushing  my  fortune  in  the  world  but  that  of 
scholar  ^nd  philosopher.  I  was  infinitely  happy  in  this 
course  oi  life  for  some  months,  till  at  last,  about  the  be- 


A   BEIEF  ACCOUNT   OF   HUME'S   LIFE.  119 

ginning  of  September,  1729,  all  my  ardour  seemed  in  a 
moment  to  be  extinguished,  and  I  could  no  longer  raise 
my  mind  to  that  pitch  which  formerly  gave  me  such  ex- 
cessive pleasure.  I  felt  no  uneasiness  or  want  of  spirits 
when  I  laid  aside  my  book  ;  and,  therefore,  never  ima- 
gined there  w^as  any  bodily  distemper  in  the  case,  but  that 
my  coldness  proceeded  from  a  laziness  of  temper  which 
must  be  overcome  by  redoubling  my  application.  In  this 
condition  I  remained  for  nine  months,  very  uneasy  to  my- 
self, but  witliout  growing  any  worse — Avhich  was  a  miracle. 
There  was  another  particular  which  contributed  more  than 
anything  to  waste  my  spirits  and  bring  on  me  this  distem- 
per, which  was,  that  having  read  many  books  of  morality, 
such  as  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Plutarch,  and  being  smit  with 
their  beautiful  representations  of  virtue  and  philosophy,  I- 
undertook  the  improvement  of  my  temper  and  will,  along 
with  my  reason  and  understanding.  I  was  continually  for- 
tifying myself  with  reflections  against  death  and  poverty, 
and  shame  and  pain,  and  all  the  other  calamities  of  life. 
These  no  doubt  are  exceeding  useful  when  joined  with  an 
active  life,  because  the  occasion  being  presented  along  with 
the  reflection,  works  it  into  the  soul  and  makes  it  take  a 
deep  impression  ;  but  in  solitude  they  serve  to  little  other 
purpose  than  to  waste  the  spirits,  the  force  of  the  mind 
meeting  with  no  resistance,  but  wasting  itself  in  the  air 
like  our  arm  when  it  misses  the  aim.  This,  however,  I 
did  not  learn  but  by  experience,  and  till  I  had  already 
ruined  my  health,  though  I  was  not  sensible  of  it."  He 
then  describes  the  symptoms,  scurvy  spots  breaking  out  on 
his  fingers  the  first  winter,  then  a  wateryness  in  the 
mouth.  Xext  year,  about  May,  1731,  there  grew  upon  him 
a  ravenous  appetite  and  a  palpitation  of  heart.  In  six 
weeks,  from  "  being  tall,  lean,  and  rawboned,  he  became 
on  a  sudden  the  most  sturdy,  robust,  healthful-like  fellow 


120  DAVID  HUME. 

you  have  seen,  with  a  ruddy  complexion  and  a  cheerful 
countenance."  He  goes  on  to  say  that,  "  having  now  time 
and  leisure  to  cool  my  inflamed  imagination,  I  began  to 
consider  seriously  how  I  should  proceed  with  my  philo- 
sophical studies.  I  found  that  the  moral  philosophy  trans- 
mitted to  us  by  antiquity  labored  under  the  same  incon- 
venience that  has  been  found  in  their  natural  philosophy, 
of  being  entirely  hypothetical  and  depending  more  upon 
invention  than  experience ;  every  one  consulted  his  fancy 
in  erecting  schemes  of  virtue  and  happiness,  without  re- 
garding human  nature,  upon  which  every  moral  conclusion 
must  depend.  This,  therefore,  I  resolved  to  make  my 
principal  study,  and  the  source  from  which  I  would  derive 
every  truth  in  criticism  as  well  as  morality."  He  tells 
how  he  had  read  most  of  the  celebrated  books  in  Latin, 
French,  ^nd  English  ;  how,  "  within  these  three  years  I  find 
I  have  scribbled  many  a  quire  of  paper  in  which  there  is 
nothing  contained  but  my  own  inventions ;  "  how  he  "  had 
collected  the  rude  materials  for  many  volumes  ; "  but,  he 
adds,  "  I  had  no  hopes  of  delivering  my  opinions  with  such 
elegance  and  neatness  as  to  draw  to  me  the  attention  of 
the  world,  and  I  would  rather  live  and  die  in  obscurity 
than  produce  them  maimed  and  imperfect."  "  It  is  a 
weakness  rather  than  lowness  of  spirits  which  troubles 
me,"  and  he  traces  an  analogy  between  what  he  had  passed 
through  and  recorded  religious  experiences.  "  I  have 
noticed  in  the  writings  of  the  French  mystics,  and  in  those 
of  our  fanatics  here,  that  when  they  give  a  history  of  the 
situation  of  their  souls  they  mention  a  coldness  and  deser- 
tion of  the  spirit  which  frequently  returns."  Eut,  "  however 
this  may  be,  I  have  not  come  out  of  the  cloud  so  well  as 
they  commonly  tell  us  they  have  done,  or  rather  began  to 
despair  c^  ever  recovering.  To  keep  myself  from  being 
melancholy  on  so  dismal  a  prospect,  my  only  security  w^as 


A  BEIEF  ACCOUNT   OF  HTJME'S   LIFE.  121 

in  peevish  reflections  on  the  vanity  of  the  world  and 
of  all  human  glory  ;  which,  however  just  sentiments  they 
may  be  esteemed,  I  have  foimd  can  never  be  sincere,  ex- 
cept in  those  who  are  possessed  of  them.  Being  sensible 
that  all  niy  philosophy  would  never  make  me  contented  in 
my  present  situation,  I  began  to  rouse  up  myself."  He 
found  these  two  things  very  bad  for  this  distemper,  study 
and  idleness,  and  so  he  wishes  to  betake  himself  to  active 
life.  His  choice  was  confined  to  two  kinds  of  life,  that  of 
a  travelling  governor  and  tliat  of  a  merchant.  The  first  not 
being  fit  for  him,  he  says  he  is  now  on  his  way  to  Bristol, 
to  eno^ao:e  in  business  till  he  is  able  to  "  leave  this  distem- 
per  behind  me."  He  says  that  "  all  the  physicians  I  have 
consulted,  though  very  able,  could  never  enter  into  my 
distemper,"  and  so  he  now  applies  to  this  eminent  doctor. 
We  can  understand  the  circumstances  in  which  the 
youth  was  educated  and  on  which  his  philosophy  was 
formed.  He  had  been  carefully  brought  up,  we  are  not 
told  in  what  form  of  religion,  by  his  mother,  who  described 
him  as  "  a  fine  good-natured  crater,  but  uncommon  wake- 
minded,"  probably  because  he  had  not  the  energy  of  the 
young  lawyers  and  gentry  of  the  period.  He  lived  in  a 
region  where  the  religious  life  was  not  so  deep  as  in  the 
covenanting  country  in  the  southwest  of  Scotland,  and 
where  indifferentism,  called  moderatis?7i,  was  exercising  a 
deadening  infiuence.  Deism  had  been  started  in  the  pre- 
vious century  in  England  by  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  and 
was  defended  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury by  Blount,  by  Toland,  by  Middleton,  by  Tindal,  by 
Whiston,  and  Collins.  It  had  reached  Scotland  in  1732, 
when  David  Dudgeon,  a  farmer  in  Hume's  district,  pub- 
lished a  deistical  work  called  the  Moral  World.  Hume 
must  have  known  the  controversies  thus  excited.  Mean- 
while h-e  had  become  enamoured  of  the  philosophy  of  the 


122  DAVID   HUME. 

Latins,  as  Cicero  and  Seneca ;  and  was  familiar  with  the 
views  of  Descartes,  Locke,  and  Berkeley,  the  names  that 
stood  highest  in  his  day. 

His  friends  had  destined  him  for  the  law,  but  not 
liking  it  he  thought  of  business.  He  says  :  "  In  1734:  I 
went  to  Bristol  with  some  recommendations  to  eminent 
merchants,  but  in  a  few  months  found  that  scene  totally 
unsuitable  to  me.  I  went  over  to  France  with  a  view  of 
prosecuting  my  studies  in  a  country  retreat,  and  I  there 
laid  that  plan  of  life  which  I  have  steadily  and  success- 
fully pursued." 

We  can  easily  picture  the  youth  of  twenty-three  as  he 
set  out  for  France.  By  nature  he  is  one  of  a  class  of 
persons  to  be  found  in  all  countries,  but  quite  as  fre- 
quentl}^  in  Scotland  as  anywhere  else,  who  are  endowed 
with  a  powerful  intellect  conjoined  with  a  heavy  animal 
temperament ;  and  who,  with  no  high  aspirations,  ideal, 
ethereal,  or  spiritual,  have  a  tendency  to  look  with  suspicion 
on  all  kinds  of  enthusiasm  and  high-flown  zeal.  With  an 
understanding  keen  and  searching  he  could  not  be  con- 
tented with  the  appearances  of  things,  and  was  ever  bent 
on  penetrating  beneath  the  surface  ;  and  his  native  shrewd- 
ness, his  hereditarj^  predilections,  and  the  reaction  against 
the  heats  of  the  previous  century,  all  combined  to  lead  him 
to  question  common  impressions  and  popular  opinions. 
He  saw  the  difficulties  which  beset  philosophical  and  theo- 
logical investigations,  and  was  unable  to  deliver  himself 
from  them,  being  without  the  high  sentiments  which  might 
have  lifted  him  above  the  low  philosophy  of  his  own  day 
in  England  aiid  France,  and  the  sophistries  suggested  by  a 
restless  intellect.  He  knew  only  the  ancient  Stoic  phil- 
osophy in  the  pages  of  Koman  authors  and  the  modern 
philosopliy  of  Locke,  as  modified  by  such  men  as  Shaftes- 
bury and  Ilutcheson,  and  driven  to  its  logical  consequences 


A  BRIEF  ACCOUNT   OF  HUME'S   LIFE.  123 

by  Berkeley ;  he  had  tried  the  one  in  his  practical  conduct 
and  the  other  by  his  sifting  intellect,  and  having  found 
both  wanting  he  is  prepared  to  abandon  himself  to 
skepticism,  which  is  the  miserable  desert  resorted  to  by 
those  who  despair  of  truth.  Meanwhile  his  great  intel- 
lectual powers  find  employment  in  constructing  theories 
of  the  mind  in  which  he  himself  perhaps  had  no  great 
faith,  but  which  seemed  the  logical  conclusion  of  the  ac- 
knowledged philosophical  principles  of  his  time,  and  quite 
as  plausible  as  any  that  had  been  devised  by  others  and 
brought  such  fame  to  their  authors. 

With  these  predilections  France  was  the  country  which 
had  the  most  attractions  to  him,  but  was  at  the  same  time 
the  most  unfortunate  country  he  could  have  gone  to ;  and 
the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  most  unfor- 
tunate period  for  visiting  it.  In  philosophy  the  age  had 
outgrown  Descartes  and  Malebranche,  Arnauld  and  Pas- 
cal, and  the  grave  and  earnest  thinkers  of  the  previous 
century,  and  was  embracing  the  most  superficial  parts  of 
Locke's  philosophy,  which  had  been  introduced  by  Yoltaire 
to  the  knowledge  of  Frenchmen,  who  turned  it  to  a 
wretched  sensationalism.  In  religion  he  saw  around  him, 
among  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  a  very  corrupted  and 
degenerate  form  of  Christianity ;  while  among  the  edu- 
cated classes  infidelity  was  privately  cherished  and  was 
ready  to  burst  out.  Yoltaire  had  issued  his  first  attack  on 
Christianity  in  his  "  Epitre  a  Uranie,"  published  in  1728, 
and  carried  English  Deism  into  France.  The  fire  spread 
with  a  rapidity  which  showed  that  there  were  materials 
ready  to  catch  it  and  propagate  it.  Sixty  years  later,  one 
60  fond  of  order  and  peace  would  have  been  scared  by  the 
effects  produced  by  skepticism,  so  powerful  in  overthrow- 
ing old  abuses,  and  so  weak  in  constructing  anything  new 
or  better ;  but  at  this  time  infidelity  was  full  of  hope  and 


124:  DAVID  HUME. 

promising  an  era  of  liberty  and  peace.  The  very  section 
of  the  Catholic  Church  which  retained  the  highest  faith, 
and  the  purest  morality  had  unfortunately  been  involved 
in  a  transaction  which  favored  the  skeptical  tendency 
among  shrewd  minds.  Only  a  few  years  before,  the 
people  believed  that  the  sick  were  healed  and  the  blind 
made  to  see  at  the  tomb  of  a  famous  Jansenist,  the  Abbe 
Paris;  and  the  noise  made  by  the  occurrences  and  the 
discussions  created  by  them  had  not  passed  away  when 
Hume  arrived  in  Paris,  and  the  youth  pondered  the  event 
to  bring  it  out  years  after  in  his  Essay  on  Miracles. 
While  he  lived  at  La  Fleche  a  Jesuit  plied  him  with  some 
"  nonsensical  miracle  "  performed  lately  in  their  convent ; 
and  then  and  there  occurred  to  him  the  famous  argument 
which  he  afterward  published  against  miracles.  "As  my 
head  was  full  of  the  topics  of  the  Treatise  on  Human 
Nature  which  I  w^as  at  that  time  composing,  the  argument 
immediately  occurred  to  me  and  I  thought  it  very  much 
gravelled  my  companion ;  but  at  last  he  observed  to  me 
that  it  was  impossible  for  that  argument  to  have  any 
validity,  because  it  operated  equally  against  the  gospel  as 
the  Catholic  miracles :  w^hich  observation  I  thought  lit  to 
admit  as  a  sufficient  answer." 

After  living  a  short  time  in  Paris  he  retired  to  Rheims, 
and  afterwards  went  to  La  Fleche,  where  he  passed  two  of 
the  three  years  he  spent  in  France.  "We  know  nothing  of 
his  employments  these  years,  except  that  he  devoted  him- 
self most  earnestly  to  the  composition  of  his  Treatise  on  ■ 
Human  Nature.  In  1737  he  brought  it  over  wdth  him 
to  London,  where  he  published  the  two  first  books  the 
end  of  the  following  year. 

This  Treatise  is  by  far  the  most  important  of  all  his  phil- 
osophical works.  If  we  except  certain  speculations  in 
history  and  political  economy,  it  contains  nearly  all  his 


LIFE.  125 

favorite  ideas.  He  devoted  to  it  all  the  resources  of  his 
mighty  intellect.  He  had  read  extensively,  pondered 
deeply,  and  taken  immense  pains  in  polishing  his  style. 
He  could  scarcely  indeed  be  called  a  learned  man  in  the 
technical  sense  of  the  term,  but  he  was  well  informed. 
We  could  have  wished  that  he  had  possessed  wider 
sympathies  with  earnest  seekers  after  truth  in  all  ages, 
but  this  was  not  in  the  nature  of  the  man.  His  knowl- 
edge of  Greek  was  very  imperfect  at  this  time  (he  after- 
ward renewed  his  acquaintance  with  that  language) ; 
what  he  knew  of  Greek  philosophy  was  chiefly  through 
Cicero  (his  very  pictures  of  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans  are 
Roman  rather  than  Grecian),  and  he  never  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  such  deep  and  earnest  thinkers  as  Socrates, 
Plato,  and  Aristotle — he  tells  us  somewhere  that  the  fame 
of  Aristotle  is  utterly  decayed.  In  respect  even  of  mod- 
ern writers,  he  never  comprehended  the  profundity  of  such 
men  as  Cudworth  and  Descartes  in  the  previous  century  ; 
and  he  had  no  appreciation  of  the  speculations  of  Clarke 
and  Leibnitz,  who  lived  in  the  age  immediately  preceding 
his  own.  He  belongs  to  the  cold,  elegant,  doubting,  and 
secular  eighteenth  century,  and  setting  little  value  on 
antiquity,  he  builds  for  the  present  and  the  future  on  the 
philosophy  of  his  own  time. 

As  to  style,  which  he  greatly  cultivated,  the  models 
which  he  set  before  him  were  the  Koman  prose  writers, 
the  French  authors  of  his  own  day,  and  the  Englishmen 
who  were  introducing  the  French  clearness  and  point,  such 
as  Shaftesbury,  Bolingbroke  and  Pope.  He  says  "  the  first 
polite  prose  we  have  was  writ  by  Swift."  Though  he  took 
great  pains  he  never  altogether  succeeded  in  weeding  out 
his  Scotticisms,  nor  in  acquiring  a  genuine  English  idiom  ; 
but  his  style  is  always  clear,  manly  and  elegant,  and  worthy 
of  his.  weighty   thoughts.      When  he   broke   down  his 


136  DAVID  HUME. 

elaborate  Treatise  into  smaller  ones,  lie  endeavored  to 
catch  the  ease  and  freedom  of  the  lighter  French  litera- 
ture, but  neither  the  subject  of  which  he  treats,  nor  the 
ideas  of  the  author  admit  of  such  treatment,  and  though 
the  Essays  are  more  ornate  and  have  more  attempts  at 
smartness  and  repartee,  the  student  will  ever  betake  him- 
self to  the  Treatise  as  containing  the  only  systematic  and 
by  far  the  most  satisfactory  statement  of  his  views. 

Having  published  his  work  he  retired  to  Ninewells  to 
wait  the  result.  "Never  was  literary  attempt  more  un- 
fortunate than  my  Treatise  on  Human  Nature.  It  fell 
dead-born  from  the  press  without  reaching  such  a  dis- 
tinction as  even  to  create  a  murmur  among  the  zealots." 
lie  evidently  felt  disappointed.  "  I  am  out  of  humor 
with  myself."  But  he  was  conscious  of  intellectual  power, 
he  had  laid  his  plan  for  life,  and  he  indomitably  persevered 
in  his  literary  career.  Next  year  he  printed  at  Edinburgh 
the  third  volume  of  his  Treatise  with  no  better  success. 
He  now  began  to  break  down  his  great  work  into  smaller 
essays.  In  1741  he  printed  the  first,  and  in  1742  the 
second,  of  his  Essays  Moral  and  Political,  The  work 
was  favorably  received  and  he  was  encouraged.  In  1748 
he  cast  the  first  part  of  his  Treatise  into  a  new  and  more 
improved  form  in  the  Inquiry  Concerning  Human  Un- 
derstanding^ which  created  no  interest ;  but  he  persevered 
with  his  Essays,  and  in  1752  he  published  the  second  part, 
being  his  Political  Discourses.  This  work  was  immedi- 
ately received  with  acclamation,  and  being  translated  into 
French  it  procured  him  a  high  reputation  and,  in  fact, 
raised  those  investigations  which  issued  in  making  political 
economy  a  science  in  the  Wecdth  of  Nations. 

Having  set  the  youth  and  matured  man  with  his 
opinions  ^efore  my  readers,  it  is  not  necessary  to  detail 
his   remaining  history.     He  spent  most  of  his  time   in 


127 

Edinburgh,  where  he  became  the  centre  of  a  literary  circle 
and  encouraged  literary  men.  He  held  for  several  years 
the  office  of  Librarian  of  the  Advocates'  Library,  and  hav- 
ing there  a  valuable  collection  of  books  he  began  to 
execute  his  long-cherished  plan  of  writing  a  History  of 
England.  He  lived  on  friendly  terms  with  the  leaders  of 
the  church  of  Scotland,  and  encouraged  them  in  their 
efforts  to  allay  the  religious  fervor  which  had  been  so 
strong  in  the  previous  ages.  On  two  occasions  he  sought 
to  be  appointed  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the 
University  of  Edinburgh,  but  even  his  literary  friends 
were  doubtful  as  to  the  character  of  the  morality  to  be 
taught  to  young  men  by  one  who  had  no  religious  con- 
victions. Good-natured,  sociable,  and  declining  contro- 
versy with  those  who  opposed  him,  he  suffered  few  an- 
noyances because  of  his  scepticism;  certainly  none  that 
deserves  the  name  of  persecution.  Believing  that  specu- 
lative truth  in  philosophy  or  in  religion  was  impossible, 
he  was  yet  unwilling  to  be  called  an  atheist,  or  even  a 
deist,  and  professed  to  be  seeking  after  light,  which  he 
never  got. 

In  1763  he  received  from  the  Earl  of  Hertford  an  invita- 
tion to  attend  him  on  his  embassy  to  Paris.  His  visit  to 
the  capital  of  France  on  this  occasion  deserves  a  special 
notice  as  characteristic  of  the  times.  Dukes,  mareschals, 
foreign  ambassadors  vied  with  each  other  in  honoring 
him.  The  famous  men  whose  persons  and  conversations 
he  liked  best  were  D'Alembert,  Marmontel,  Diderot, 
Duclos,  Helvetius,  and  old  President  Henault ;  and  he 
writes  to  Dr.  Blair  and  bids  him  tell  Dr.  Pobertson  that 
there  was  not  a  single  deist  among  them,  meaning  that  there 
was  none  but  went  farther.  But  he  was  the  special  favor- 
ite of  the  ladies — and  we  know  what  was  their  character — 
who  at  that  time  ruled  the  fashion  in  Paris.     The  Coun- 


128  DAVID  HUME. 

tess  de  Boiifflers  addressed  him,  declaring  the  "  admiration 
whicli  your  sublime  work  ( The  History  of  England )  has 
awakened  in  me."  "  I  know  no  terms  capable  of  ex- 
pressing what  I  felt  in  reading  the  work.  I  was  moved, 
transported,  and  the  emotion  w^hich  it  caused  me  is  in 
some  measure  painful  bj  its  continuance.  It  elevates  the 
soul,  it  fills  the  heart  with  sentiments  of  humanitj  and 
benevolence ;  it  enlightens  the  intellect  by  showing  that 
true  happiness  is  closely  connected  with  virtue,  and  dis- 
covers by  the  same  light  what  is  the  end,  the  sole  end,  of 
every  reasonable  being."  "  In  truth,  I  believed  I  had  be- 
fore my  eyes  the  work  of  some  celestial  being,  free  from 
the  passions  of  humanity,  who,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
human  race  has  deigned  to  write  the  events  of  these 
latter  times  ! !  "  The  philosopher  is  evidently  gratified. 
*'  What  new  wonder  is  this  which  your  letter  presents  to 
me  ?  I  not  only  find  a  lady,  who,  in  the  bloom  of  beauty 
and  height  of  reputation,  can  withdraw  herself  from  the 
pleasures  of  a  gay  court,  and  find  leisure  to  cultivate  the 
sciences,  but  deigns  to  support  a  correspondence  with  a 
man  of  letters,  in  a  remote  country,  and  to  reward  his  la- 
bors by  a  suffrage  the  most  agreeable  of  all  others  to  a 
man  who  has  any  spark  of  generous  sentiment  or  taste  for 
true  glory."  This  lady,  it  is  proper  to  say,  in  plain  terms, 
was  the  wife  of  the  Comte  de  Boufilers,  still  alive,  but  the 
mistress  of  the  Prince  of  Conti,  who  superintended  for 
the  king  that  mean  diplomatic  correspondence  which  he 
carried  on  unknown  to  his  ministers.  Hume  might  also 
be  seen  attending  the  evening  salons  of  Madame  Geoffrin, 
who  had  been  the  daughter  of  a  valet  de  chainbre,  and 
was  now  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  artists  and  men  of  let- 
ters. He  also  waited  on  the  entertainments  of  the  fa- 
mous Mademoiselle  de  TEspinasse,  who,  originally  an  il- 
legitimate  child,  had  raised  herself  by  being,  first,  the 


A  BEIEF  ACCOUNT  OF  HUME's  LIFE.  129 

humble  companion,  and  then  the  rival  of  Madame  du 
Deffand,  and  was  well  known  to  have  been  the  mistress  of 
a  number  of  successive  or  contemporaneous  lovers.  There 
must  have  been  something  in  the  philosophy  of  Hume 
which  recommended  him  to  so  many  ladies  of  this  descrip- 
tion. We  believe  they  were  glad  to  find  so  eminent  a 
philosopher,  with  a  system  which  did  not  seem  to  bear 
hard  upon  them.  The  courtiers  told  him  that  Madame  de 
Pompadour  "was  never  heard  to  say  so  much  of  any 
man."  He  says  of  himself  :  "  I  eat  nothing  but  ambrosia, 
drink  nothing  but  nectar,  breathe  nothing  but  incense, 
and  tread  on  nothing  but  flowers.  Every  man  I  meet, 
and  still  more,  every  lady,  would  think  they  were  wanting 
in  the  most  indispensable  duty  if  they  did  not  make  a  long 
and  elaborate  harangue  in  my  praise." 

But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  did  he  think  of  the  state  of 
society  in  which  he  had  to  mingle  ?  It  is  evident  that  he 
was  horrified  at  times  with  the  proclaimed  atheism  of  men 
and  women.  But  what  did  he  think  of  the  morality  of 
the  circles  in  which  he  moved,  more  especially  of  the 
loose  relationship  of  the  marriage  tie  ?  Did  this  utilita- 
rian theory  of  morals,  of  which  he  surely  knew  the  bearing 
and  tendency,  allow  of  such  a  state  of  things  ?  It  is  cer- 
tain that  Hume  uttered  no  protest  at  the  time,  and  he  has 
left  behind  no  condemnation  of  the  morality  of  France, 
while  he  was  fond  of  making  sly  and  contemptuous  allusions 
to  the  manifestations  of  religious  zeal  in  his  own  country. 
The  tone  of  morality  in  France  could  never  have  been 
amended  by  him,  nor,  we  venture  to  say,  by  any  utilitarian. 

In  his  will  he  gave  orders  for  the  publication  of  his 
Dialogues  on  Natural  Religion^  a  work  written  long  be- 
fore, and  undermining  all  natural  religion,  to  which  his 
literary  friends  in  Scotland  still  clung.  He  died  August 
26,  1776. 


180  DAVID   HUME. 


SECTION  n. 

IMPRESSIONS   AND    IDEAS. 

Everybody  knows  that  Hume  was  a  sceptic.  It  is  not 
60  generally  known  that  he  has  developed  a  full  system 
of  the  human  mind  in  his  Treatise  of  Human  Nature. 
His  scepticism  is  unfolded  in  the  form  of  a  psychology. 
He  claims  to  proceed,  in  the  manner  of  his  time,  by  ob- 
servation. I  am  to  proceed  in  the  same  w^ay  in  opposing 
him.  This  is  not  the  plan  followed  by  the  recent  critics 
of  Hume,  on  whose  objections  to  his  scepticism  I  set  no 
value  whatever,  as  they  proceed  on  Ivant's  critical  method. 
While  Kant  has  established  certain  important  truths  he 
has  not  shown  wisdom — such  is  my  opinion — in  his  man- 
ner of  meeting  Hume.  He  has  not  opposed  the  sceptic 
at  his  entrance ;  he  has  allowed  the  Trojan  horse  to  come 
in,  and  has  thus  introduced  a  foe  which  he  has  not  been 
able  to  expel,  and  opened  the  way  for  a  more  widespread 
and  devouring  infidelity  than  Hume's  direct  attacks  ever 
did.  I  am  to  follow  Hume's  method ;  but  in  doing  so  I 
discover  by  observation  truths  prior  to,  and  above  obser- 
vation, which  not  only  he,  but  his  immediate  philosophic 
predecessors,  Locke  and  Berkeley,  did  not  notice. 

Locke  had  said,  "  Since  the  mind  in  all  its  thoughts  and 
reasoning  hath  no  other  object  but. its  own  ideas,  which  it 
alone  does  and  can  contemplate,  it  is  evident  that  our 
knowledge  is  only  conversant  about  them  "  (Essaj^,  B.  iv., 
1).  Berkeley  had  put  the  question  (Berkeley's  Works,  by 
Eraser,  vol.  i.,  157),  "  what  do  we  perceive  besides  our  ideas 
and  sensaiiions."  He  fixes  on  a  distinction  between  these 
two,  the  one  being  more  strong  and  lively,  and  the  other 


IMPRESSIONS  AI^D  IDEAS.  131 

faint.  "  The  ideas  of  sense  are  more  strong,  lively,  and 
distinct  than  those  of  imagination  "  (p.  lYO).  "  The  ideas 
imprinted  in  tlie  senses  bj  the  author  of  nature  are  called 
real  things,  and  those  excited  in  the  imagination,  being  less 
regular,  vivid,  and  constant,  are  commonly  termed  ideas  " 
(172).  At  this  point  Hume  started,  using  the  very  phrases 
of  Berkeley,  impressions  (from  imprinted)  and  ideas.  He 
thus  opens  his  Treatise :  "  All  the  perceptions  of  the  human 
mind  resolve  themselves  into  two  distinct  kinds,  which  I 
call  impressions  and  ideas.  The  difference  betwixt  them 
consists  in  the  degree  of  force  and  liveliness  with  which 
they  strike  upon  the  mind,  and  make  their  way  into  our 
thought  or  consciousness.  Those  perceptions  which  enter 
with  most  force  and  violence  we  may  name  impressions,  and 
under  this  name  I  comprehend  all  our  sensations,  passions 
and  emotions,  as  they  make  their  first  appearance  in  the  soul. 
By  ideas  I  mean  the  faint  images  of  these  in  thinking  and 
reasoning ;  such,  for  instance,  are  all  the  perceptions  excited 
by  the  present  discourse,  excepting  only  those  which  arise 
from  the  sight  or  touch,  and  excepting  the  immediate 
pleasure  or  uneasiness  it  may  occasion." 

Hume  is  to  be  met  at  this  gate,  by  which  he  would 
enter.  Kant,  we  may  show  in  a  future  paper,  betrayed  the 
cause  of  genuine  philosophy  by  granting  what  the  sceptic 
demanded.  We  are  not  to  be  satisfied  with  the  account 
which  Hume  gives,  because  it  proceeds  on  wdiat  Locke 
and  Berkeley  and  the  prevalent  philosophy  of  the  day 
admitted.  His  appeal  is  to  observation,  and  by  it  he  is 
to  be  tried.  Falling  in  with  the  theories  of  his  time,  he 
has  given  a  wrong  account,  our  observation  being  witness, 
of  our  perceptions.  The  sceptical  conclusions  which  he 
has  drawn  should  make  us  review  the  philosophy  of  his 
predecessors.  We  are  not  to  follow  him  simply  because  he 
follows  those  who  have  gone  before ;  we  are  to  inquire  by 


132  DAVID  HUME. 

the  internal  sense  what  our  perceptions  are.  "We  never,  in 
fact,  have  a  mere  impression  or  a  mere  idea,  we  have  a  thing 
impressed,  and  in  om-  sense  impression  there  is  a  thing 
impressing ;  and  we  have  self  receiving  the  impression  and 
entertaining  the  idea.  He  has  given  a  totally  perverted 
view  of  our  perceptions.  In  the  perceptions  of  the  mind 
there  are  things  perceived.  We  have  as  good  evidence,  in 
fact  the  same  evidence,  a  self -evidence,  of  the  thing  per- 
ceived as  of  the  perception  ;  in  fact,  the  perception  is  of  a 
thing,  of  self  or  body  as  perceived.  We  thus  stop  the 
sceptic  at  the  entrance.  We  have  thus  realities,  we  have 
things  as  the  basis,  and  upon  this  can  rear  a  solid,  and  not 
an  ideal  philosophy. 

It  will  not  do  to  place  under  the  same  head  and  call  by 
the  one  name  two  such  things  as  the  affections  of  the 
senses  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  mental  emotions  of  hope, 
fear,  joy,  and  sorrow  on  the  other.  Nor  can  we  allow  him 
to  describe  all  our  sense-perceptions  by  the  vague  name  of 
impressions.  What  is  meant  by  impression,  a  term  em- 
ployed by  Locke  and  Berkeley,  and  now  adopted  by  Hume  ? 
If  the  word  has  any  proper  meaning,  it  must  signify  that 
there  is  something  impressing — without  which  there  would 
be  no  impression — and  also,  something  impressed.  If 
Hume  admits  all  this  to  be  in  the  impression,  we  ask  him 
to  go  on  with  us  to  inquire  what  is  in  the  thing  impressed, 
and  in  the  thing  that  impresses,  and  we  are  at  once  in  the 
region  of  existences,  internal  and  external.  "I  never,"  he 
says,  "  catch  myself  at  any  time  without  a  perception,  and 
never  can  observe  anything  but  the  perception."  His  very 
language  contradicts  itself.  He  talks  of  catching  himself^ 
what  is  this  self  that  he  catches  ?  But  he  may  say  it  is  only 
a  perception.  We  reply  that  there  is  more  ;  we  never  ob- 
serve a  perception  alone.  We  always  observe  self  as  per- 
ceiving.    It  is  true  that  I  never  can  catch  myself  at  any 


MEMORY.  133 

time  without  a  perception ;  but  it  is  quite  as  certain,  and 
we  have  the  same  evidence  for  it,  that  we  never  observe  a 
perception  except  when  we  observe  self -perceiving.  Let 
us  unfold  what  is  in  this  self,  and  we  shall  find  that  it 
no  way  resembles  an  impression  like  that  left  by  a  seal 
upon  wax.'  In  regard  to  certain  of  our  perceptions,  those 
through  the  senses,  we  observe  not  only  the  self -perceiv- 
ing, but  an  object  perceived. 


SECTION  m. 

MEMORY. 

He  now  explains  the  way  in  which  ideas  appear.  By 
memory  the  impressions  come  forth  in  their  original 
order  and  position  as  ideas.  This  is  a  defective  account 
of  memory,  consciousness  being  the  witness.  In  memory 
we  have  not  only  a  reproduction  of  a  sensation,  or  it  may 
be  a  mental  affection — we  recognize  it  as  having  heen  hefore 
tis  in  ti?nepast.  Of  all  this  we  have  as  clear  evidence  as 
we  have  of  the  presence  of  the  idea.^     In  imagination  the 

^  As  my  object  in  this  paper  is  not  only  to  oppose  Hume,  but  all  wlio 
adopt  his  principles,  I  mean  to  attach  a  few  notes  to  show  how  my 
criticisms  apply  to  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill,  the  ablest  of  the  school.  My  quo- 
tations will  be  from  his  Examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy.  At  this 
place  I  remark  that  as  Mr.  Mill  derives  all  our  ideas  and  convictions 
from  sensations,  he  is  to  be  met  by  showing  that  we  never  have  a  sen- 
sation without  knowing  self  as  sentient. 

'^  At  this  point  Mr.  Mill  has  been  driven  into  difficulties  by  Dr.  Ward, 
and  he  avows  it  in  afoot-note,  page  174  :  "  Our  belief  in  the  veracity  of 
Memory  is  evidently  ultimate  ;  no  reason  can  be  given  for  it  which  does 
not  presuppose  the  belief  and  assume  it  to  be  well  grounded."  The 
full  facts  of  the  Recognitive  Power  of  Memory  are  not  embraced  in 
this  brief  enunciation  ;  but  there  is  much  stated  and  more  implied  ;  he 
should  have  inquired  how  much  is  involved,  and  he  would  have  seen 


134  DAVID  HUME. 

ideas  are  more  strong  and  lively,  and  are  transposed  and 
changed.  This,  he  says,  is  effected  by  an  associating  qual- 
ity, and  he  here  develops  his  account  of  the  laws  of  asso- 
ciation which  has  been  so  commended.  But  the  truth  is, 
his  views  on  this  subject,  so  far  from  being  an  advance  on 
those  of  Ilutcheson,  are  rather  a  retrogression  ;  they  are 
certainly  far  behind  those  of  his  contemporary,  Turnbull. 
He  seems  to  confine  the  operation  of  association  to  the  ex- 
ercise of  imagination  ;  he  does  not  see  that  our  very  mem- 
ories are  regulated  by  the  same  principle  ;  nay,  he  allows 
that  the  imagination  can  join  two  ideas  w^ithout  it.  The 
associating  qualities  are  said  by  him  to  be  three  in  num- 
ber— resemblance,  contiguity  in  time  or  place,  and  cause 
or  effect.  '- 1  do  not  find,"  he  says,  "  that  any  philosopher 
has  attempted  to  enumerate  all  the  principles  of  associa- 
tion." But  the  classification  propounded  by  him  bears  so 
close  a  resemblance  to  that  of  Aristotle  that  we  must 
believe  that  the  one  given  by  the  Stagyrite  had,  in  the 
course  of  his  reading,  fallen  under  his  notice,  though  he 
had  forgotten  the  circumstance.  The  difference  between 
the  tw^o  lies  in  Hume  giving  us  cause  and  effect,  instead 
of  contrast,  as  proposed  by  the  Greek  philosopher.  It  has 
often*  been  remarked  that  Hume's  arrangement  is  redun- 
dant, inasmuch  as  cause  and  effect,  according  to  him,  are 
nothing  but  contiguity  in  time  and  place. 

He  now  shows  how  our  complex  ideas  are  formed.  Fol- 
lowing Locke,  he  represents  these  as  consisting  of  sub- 
stances, modes,  and  relations.  He  dismisses  substance 
very  summarily-.  He  proceeds  on  the  view  of  substance 
given  by  Locke,  one  of  the  most  defective  and  unsatis- 

that  there  is  truth  admitted  fatal  to  his  system.  He  should  also  have 
shown  on  what  ground  he  proclaims  this  belief  to  be  "evidently  ulti- 
mate," andythen  we  might  have  shown  that,  on  the  same  ground,  that 
is,  self-evidence,  we  are  entitled  to  call  in  other  ultimate  beliefs. 


MEMORY.  135 

factory  parts  of  his  philosophy.  Locke  stood  up  for  some 
unknown  thing  called  substance  behind  the  qualities. 
Berkeley  had  shown  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  substratum.  Hume  assumes  that  we  have 
no  idea  of  external  substance  different  from  the  qualities, 
and  he  proceeds  to  show  that  we  have  no  notion  of  the 
substance  mind  distinct  from  particular  perceptions.  "I 
believe  none  will  assert  that  substance  is  either  a  color,  or 
a  sound,  or  a  taste.  The  idea  of  substance  must,  therefore, 
be  derived  from  an  impression  of  reflection,  if  it  really 
exist.  But  the  impressions  of  reflection  resolve  them- 
selves into  our  passions  and  emotions,  none  of  which  can 
possibly  represent  a  substance."  A  substance  is  thus  noth- 
ing else  than  a  collection  of  particular  qualities  united 
by  the  imagination.  He  thus  suits  the  idea  to  liis  precon- 
ceived theory,  instead  of  looking  at  the  peculiar  idea  and 
suiting  his  theory  to  the  facts.  Xow  I  give  up  the  idea 
of  an  unknown  substratum  behind  the  qualities.  I  stand 
up  only  for  what  we  know.  In  consciousness  we  know 
self,  and  in  sense-perception  we  know  the  external  object 
as  existing  things  exercishig  qualities.  In  this  is  involved 
what  we  reckon  the  true  idea  of  substance.  We  can  as 
little  know  the  qualities  apart  from  an  object  exercising 
them,  as  we  can  an  object  apart  from  qualities.  We  know 
both  in  one  concrete  act,  and  'we  have  the  same  evidence 
of  the  one  as  the  other. 

When  he  comes  to  Modes  he  examines  them  by  the 
doctrine  of  abstract  or  general  ideas  propounded  by  Berke- 
ley, which  he  characterizes  "  as  one  of  the  greatest  and 
most  valuable  discoveries  that  has  been  made  of  late  years 
in  the  republic  of  letters."  According  to  this  very  defec- 
tive theory  (as  it  appears  to  us),  all  abstract  or  general 
ideas  are  nothing  but  particular  ones  annexed  to  a  certain 
term.     Like  Locke,  Hume  confounds  abstract  and  general 


136  DAVID   HUME. 

ideas,  which  should  be  carefully  distinguished,  the  former 
raeaning  the  notion  of  the  part  of  an  object  as  a  part, 
more  particularly  an  attribute ;  the  other,  the  notion  of 
objects  possessing  common  attributes,  the  notion  behig 
such  that  it  embraces  all  the  objects  possessing  the  com- 
mon attributes.  Abstraction  and  generalization  are  most 
important  intellectual  operations,  the  one  bringing  spe- 
cially to  view  what  is  involved  in  the  concrete,  knowledge 
(not  impression)  of  the  individual,  and  the  other  exhibit- 
ing the  qualities  in  respect  of  which  objects  agree.  With- 
out such  elaborative  processes  we  should  never  know  all 
that  is  involved  in  our  original  perceptions  by  sense  and 
consciousness.  Xor  is  it  to  be  forgotten  that  when  the 
concrete  is  a  real  object,  the  abstract  is  a  real  quality  ex- 
isting in  the  object,  and  that  where  the  singulars  are  real 
the  universal  is  also  real,  that  is,  a  class,  all  the  objects  in 
which  possess  common  qualities.  Here  again  we  find 
Hume  overlooking  one  of  the  most  essential  of  our  mental 
attributes,  and  thus  degrading  human  intelligence.  In 
relation  to  the  particular  end  for  wdiich  he  introduces  his 
doctrine,  we  hold  that  substance  and  mode  are  known  in 
one  concrete  act,  and  that  we  can  separate  them  by  ab- 
straction for  more  particular  consideration  ;  the  one  being 
quite  as  real  an  existence  as  the  other,  and  both  having 
their  reality  in  the  singular  object  known  by  sense  and 
consciousness. 


SECTION  IV. 

SPACE    AND   TIME. 


He  goes  on  to  a  very  subtle  discussion  as  to  our  ideas  of 
space  and  time.  He  says  that  "  it  is  from  the  disposition 
of  visible  and  tangible  objects  we  receive   the  idea  of 


SPACE  AND   TIME.  137 

space,  and  from  the  succession  of  ideas  and  impressions 
we  form  the  idea  of  time."  The  statement  requires  to  be 
amended.  It  is  not  from  the  disposition  of  separate  ob- 
jects we  have  the  idea  of  space,  but  in  the  very  perception 
of  material  objects  we  know  them  as  extended,  that  is,  oc- 
cupying space ;  and  in  the  very  remembrance  of  events 
we  have  time  in  the  concrete,  that  is,  events  happening  in 
time  past.  He  is,  therefore,  wrong  in  the  sceptical  con- 
clusion which  he  draws,  that  the  ideas  of  space  and  time 
are  no  distinct  ideas,  for  they  are  ideas  formed  by  a  high 
intellectual  process  from  things  immediately  known. 
Taking  a  defective  view  of  the  nature  and  function  of  ab- 
straction, he  denies  that  we  can  form  any  idea  of  a 
vacuum  or  extension  without  matter.  He  maintains  that 
the  idea  we  form  of  any  finite  quality  is  not  infinitely  divis- 
ible. The  dispute,  he  says,  should  not  be  about  the  na- 
ture of  mathematical  points,  but  about  our  ideas  of  them  ; 
and  that  in  the  division  of  our  ideas  we  come  to  a  mini- 
mum, to  an  indivisible  idea.  This  whole  controversy 
seems  to  me  to  arrive  from  a  misapprehension.  Our  idea 
of  space,  it  is  evident,  is  neither  divisible  nor  indivisible, 
and  as  to  space,  it  is  not  divisible  either  finitely  or  in- 
finitely, for  while  we  can  divide  matter,  that  is,  have  a 
space  between,  we  cannot  separate  any  portion  of  space 
from  all  other  space :  space  is  and  must  be  continuous. 
He  is  evidently  jealous  of  the  alleged  certainty  of  mathe- 
matics, which  seemed  to  be  opposed  to  his  universal  scep- 
ticism. His  aim  is  to  raise  up  doubts  and  difficulties, 
some  of  which  we  may  not  be  able  to  resolve,  while  yet 
we  have  a  body  of  clearly  perceived  and  certain  truth. 
He  maintains  that  the  objects  of  geometry  are  mere  ideas 
in  the  mind.  We  admit  that  surfaces,  lines,  points,  have 
no  independent  existence,  but  they  have  all  an  existence  in 
solid  bodies.     We  are  capable  of  perceiving  the  relations 


138  DAVID   HUME. 

between  tliem,  and  can  tlius  construct  a  science  of  mathe- 
matics in  which  truth  is  seen  intuitively  in  considering 
the  objects.  By  an  excess  of  ingenuities  and  subtleties 
he  would  drive  us  to  the  conclusion  that  space  and  time 
are  mere  ideas  for  which  we  need  not  seek  a  correspond- 
ing reality,  a  conclusion  unfortunately  accepted  by  Kant, 
who  thus  opened  the  way  to  the  empty  idealism  w4iich  so 
long  reigned  in  the  German  philosophy.^ 

The  result  reached  is  summed  up  in  the  statement,  "  As 
long  as  we  confine  our  speculations  to  the  appearances  of 
objects  to  our  senses,  without  entering  into  disquisitions 
concerning  their  real  nature  and  operations,  we  are  safe 
from  all  difiiculties,  and  can  never  be  embarrassed  by  any 
question."  But,  "  if  we  carry  our  inquiry  beyond  the  ap- 
pearances of  objects  to  the  senses,  I  am  afraid  that  most 
of  our  conclusions  will  be  full  of  scepticism  and  uncer- 
tainty." The  intelligent  reader  will  here  perceive  the 
source  whence  Kant  derived  his  doctrine,  that  the  senses 
give  us  not  things  but  phenomena,  that  is,  appearances, 
and  that  we  are  involved  in  contradiction  when  we  suppose 
that    they    furnish    more.     However    great    the  logical 

'  Mr.  Mill's  treatment  of  Space  and  Time  is  superficial.  He  brings  in 
Time  quietly,  without  noticing  it,  or  giving  any  account  of  it.  He  does 
not  see  that  the  idea  of  it  is  involved  in  the  concrete  in  memory ;  we  re- 
member the  event  as  happening  in  time  past.  He  derives  our  idea  of 
Space  from  that  of  the  time  occupied  by  our  muscular  sensations. 
*'  When  we  say  that  there  is  a  space  between  A  and  B,  we  mean  that 
some  amount  of  these  muscular  sensations  must  intervene."  Resisting 
points  "  are  said  to  be  at  different  distances  from  one  another,  because 
the  series  of  intervening  muscular  sensations  is  longer  in  some  cases 
than  in  others  "'(pages  228-229).  He  thus  avowedly  makes  (page  227,) 
an  "identification"  of  length  in  time  and  length  in  space  "as  one,'* 
w"hereas  our  consciousness  declares  them  to  be  as  different  as  it  is  possi- 
ble for  ideas  to  be.  Besides,  the  hypothesis  on  which  he  and  Professor 
Bain  build  their  whole  theory  of  the  origin  of  our  idea  of  extension, 
viz.,  the  sensations  of  our  muscles,  is  disproven  by  physiology. 


EELATIONS   AND   BELIEF.  139 

power  of  the  German  metaphysician,  it  is  clear  that  he  did 
not  possess  the  shrewdness  of  the  common-sense  philoso- 
pher of  Scotland  when  he  adopted  the  conclusion  of  the 
sceptic  as  his  starting-point. 


SECTION  V. 

RELATIONS    AND  .BELIEF. 

He  has  now  to  face  the  important  subjects  of  Existence 
and  Knowledge.  Proceeding  on  his  assumption  that 
nothing  is  present  to  the  mind  but  perceptions,  he  argues, 
we  think,  logically  (if  the  premises  be  allowed)  that  we 
can  never  advance  a  step  beyond  ourselves,  and  that  it  is 
"  impossible  for  us  so  much  as  to  conceive  or  form  an  idea 
of  anything  specifically  different  from  ideas  or  impres- 
sions." As  knowledge  had  been  represented  by  Locke  as 
consisting  in  comparison  (we  reckon  this  a  false  and  dan- 
gerous doctrine),  Ilume  has  to  consider  the  relations  which 
the  mind  of  man  can  discover. 

These  he  represents  as  being  seven,  those  of  Kesem- 
blance.  Identity,  Space  and  Time,  Quantity,  Degree,  Con- 
trariety, Cause  and  Effect.  This  is  a  very  good  enumera- 
tion of  the  relations  perceivable  by  man  ;  it  is  certainly 
very  much  superior  to  that  of  many  later  metaphysicians, 
British  and  Continental.  But  he  proceeds  to  show  how 
little  is  involved  in  the  relations  discovered.  "  These  re- 
lations may  be  divided  into  two  classes,  into  such  as  de- 
pend entirely  on  the  ideas  which  we  compare  together, 
and  such  as  may  be  changed  without  any  change  in  the 
ideas."  In  Class  First  he  places  Resemblance,  Contrariety, 
Degree,  Proportion.  These  depend  solely  on  our  ideas. 
These  only  can  be  the  objects  of  knowledge  and  certainty,' 
but  they  can  never  go  beyond  our  ideas  which  can  never 


140  DAVID  HUME. 

go  bejond  our  impressions.  But  in  fact  the  discovery  of 
resemblances  and  differences,  of  degree  and  proportion, 
largely  widens  our  knowledge.  In  Class  Second  the  other 
three.  Identity,  Space  and  Time,  Cause  and  Effect,  do  not 
depend  on  our  ideas,  and  might  seem  to  carry  us  beyond 
them,  but  this  he  shows  is  an  illusion.  In  identity  and 
time  and  space  we  can  never  "  go  beyond  what  is  imme- 
diately present  to  the  senses,"  and  so  can  never  discover 
the  real  existence  or  the  relations  of  objects.  But  by  the 
powers  which  discover  relations  we  can  go  beyond  what  is 
present  to  the  senses,  and  go  on  from  the  present  to  dis- 
tant objects  and  the  remotest  time  past  and  future.  The 
relations  perceived  are  not  in  our  ideas,  but  in  the  things 
perceived  within  and  without  us.  And  so  he  goes  on  to 
eay,  "  'tis  only  causation  which  produces  such  a  connection 
as  to  give  us  assurance,  from  the  existence  or  action  of  one 
object,  that  'twas  followed  or  preceded  by  any  other  exist- 
ence or  action."  He  devotes  the  whole  energy  of  his  in- 
tellect to  the  task  of  showing  that  we  know  nothing  of 
the  nature  of  the  relation  between  cause  and  effect ;  that 
we  know  their  conjunction  within  our  experience,  but  not 
their  connection. 

In  discussing  this  question  and  kindred  ones  he  finds  it 
necessary  to  explain  the  nature  of  Belief.  "  The  belief  of 
the  existence  of  an  object  joins  no  new  ideas  to  those 
which  compose  the  idea  of  the  object."  What  then  is  the 
difference  between  belief  and  incredulity  ?  It  consists 
solely  in  the  liveliness  of  the  former.  "We  must  not  be 
contented  with  saying  that  the  vividness  of  the  idea  pro- 
duces the  belief.  We  must  maintain  that  they  are  individ- 
ually the  same."  "  The  belief  or  assent  which  always  at- 
tends the  memory  and  senses  is  nothing  but  the  vivacity 
of  thoses  perceptions  they  represent,  and  this  alone  dis- 
tinguishes them  from  imagination."     The  theory  is  surely 


EELATIONS  AND  BELIEF.  141 

palpably  false  here,  for  our  imaginations,  in  which  there  is 
no  faith,  are  often  livelier  than  our  memories,  in  which 
there  is  belief.  But  by  this  theory  he  would  account  for 
all  our  beliefs.  He  would  establish  it  as  a  general  maxim 
in  the  science  of  human  nature,  that  when  any  impression 
became  present  to  us  it  not  only  transports  the  mind  to 
such  ideas  as  are  related  to  it,  but  likewise  communicates 
to  them  a  share  of  its  force  and  vivacity.  ''  A  present 
impression  being  vivid  conveys  its  vividness  to  all  the 
ideas  which  are  associated  with  it  by  such  general  laws  as 
those  of  resemblance,  contiguity,  and  causation.  A  per- 
son that  has  lost  a  leg  or  an  arm  by  amputation  en- 
deavors for  a  long  time  afterward  to  serve  himself  with 
them.  After  the  death  of  any  one  'tis  a  common  remark 
of  the  whole  family,  but  especially  the  servants,  that  they 
can  scarce  believe  him  to  be  dead,  but  still  imagine  him 
to  be  in  his  chamber,  or  in  any  other  place  where  they 
were  accustomed  to  find  him."  The  explanation  may 
seem  a  very  ingenious,  but  it  is  a  very  feeble  one.  "We 
may  believe  that  we  saw  a  particular  person  yesterday, 
though  we  have  no  lively  impression  or  idea  regarding 
him ;  and  we  do  not  believe  in  the  existence  of  Achilles, 
though  the  reading  of  Homer  has  given  us  a  vivid  concep- 
tion of  him.  * 


•  Mr.  Mill  has  made  a  most  unwarrantable  application  of  the  laws  of 
association  in  accounting  for  the  formation  of  our  higher  ideas.  He 
labors  to  derive  all  our  ideas  from  sensation  through  association.  But 
sensations,  say  of  sounds,  smells,  colors,  and  forms,  or  of  pleasure  and 
pain,  can  never  be  anything  else  than  sensations,  that  is,  sounds,  smells, 
colors,  forms,  pleasures,  or  pains,  and  never  can  of  themselves  yield 
such  ideas  as  those  of  space  and  time,  cause  and  effect,  moral  good  and 
moral  obligation.  But  then  he  gives  to  association  a  sort  of  chemical 
power,  by  it  changes  a  series  of  successive  or  contemporaneous  ideas 
into  something  different  from  any  of  the  ideas,  just  as  oxygen  and  hy- 
drogen by  their  union  form  a  third  substance,  water.     He  is  to  be  met 


143-  DAVID   HUME. 

But  this  theory  is  employed  to  give  an  explanation  of 
our  belief  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  The  one 
having  always  been  with  the  other  in  our  experience,  we 

here  hj  showing  that  the  laws  of  the  association  are  merely  the  laws  of 
the  succession  of  our  ideas,  and  they  do  not  generate  a  new  idea.  Re- 
peated association  may  quicken  the  flow  of  our  ideas,  and  make  several 
as  it  were  coalesce  into  one,  or  it  may  weaken  some  and  intensify 
others,  but  it  cannot  yield  a  new  element.  Even  on  the  supposition 
that  there  is  (which  there  is  not)  a  chemical  power  in  association  to 
transmute  one  thing  into  another,  this  would  he  a  new  and  different 
capacity,  not  in  the  sensations  and  associations,  but  superinduced  upon 
them.  Mr.  Mill's  professed  evolution  of  our  higher  ideas  out  of  sensa- 
tion by  association  is  a  mere  jugglery  in  which  he  changes  the  ele- 
ments without  perceiving  it,  and  overlooks  the  peculiarities  of  the  com- 
posites he  would  explain. 

He  has  been  guilty  of  an  equal  error  in  very  much  overlooking  the 
relations  which  the  mind  of  man  discover  ;  and  so  far  as  he  does  notice 
them,  in  giving  a  very  inadequate  account  of  them.  In  this  respect  he 
is  far  behind  Hume,  who  we  have  seen  gives  a  very  comprehensive 
summary  of  them.  So  far  as  Mr.  Mill  treats  of  them  he  (followed  by 
Professor  Bain)  seems  to  give  the  mind  no  other  power  of  comparison 
than  that  of  observing  resemblances  and  differences.  Nor  is  this  his 
worst  error.  He  confounds  the  judgments  of  the  mind  with  associations, 
and  thus  endeavors  in  a  plausible  but  superficial  way  to  account  for  that 
conviction  of  necessity  which  is  appealed  to  as  a  test  of  fundamental 
truth.  "  If  we  find  it,"  he  says,  "impossible  by  any  trial  to  separate 
two  ideas,  we  have  all  the  feeling  of  necessity  the  mind  is  capable  of" 
(p.  264).  Now  there  is  here  the  confounding  of  two  things  that  are 
very  different,  the  association  of  two  ideas,  so  that  the  one  always  calls 
up  the  other,  with  the  judgment  which  declares  that  two  things  are 
necessarily  related.  The  letter  A  suggests  the  letter  B — this  is  one  men- 
tal phenomenon  ;  we  decide  that  two  plus  two  make  four  and  that  it 
cannot  be  otherwise — this  is  an  entirely  different  phenomenon.  Now  it 
is  this  necessity  gi  judgment,  and  not  the  invariable  association  that  is 
the  test  of  first  truths.  When  we  thus  show  that  association  cannot 
produce  a  new  idea,  and  that  judgment,  especially  necessary  judgments, 
are  something  different  from  associations,  we  deprive  Mr.  Mill's  theory 
of  the  plausibility  which  has  deceived  the  London  critics  bred  at  the 
English  unVversities — where,  I  may  take  the  liberty  of  saying,  they  would 
be  very  much  the  better  for  instruction  in  a  sound  and  sober  philosophy. 


>;elatioits  and  belief.  148 

are  led  by  habit  and  proceeding  on  the  principle  of  as- 
sociation, when  we  find  the  one  to  look  for  the  other  ;  and 
thus  too  the  effect  being  present,  that  is  an  impression, 
gives  its  vividness  to  the  cause  as  an  associating  idea. 
''  The  idea  of  cause  and  effect  is  derived  from  experience, 
which  presenting  us  with  certain  objects  constantly  con- 
joined with  each  other,  produces  such  a  habit  of  survey- 
ing them  in  that  relation  that  we  cannot,  without  a  sen- 
sible violence,  survey  them  in  any  other^"  This  is  his  ex- 
planation of  what  is  implied  in  efficacy,  agency,  power, 
force,  energy,  connection,  productive  quality.  The  essence 
of  necessity  is  "  the  propensity  which  custom  produces  to 
pass  from  an  object  to  the  idea  of  its  usual  attendant." 
"  When  any  object  is  presented  to  it,  it  immediately  con- 
veys to  the  mind  a  lively  idea  of  that  object  which  is  usu- 
ally found  to  attend  it,  and  this  determination  forms  the 
necessary  connection  of  these  objects."  His  definition  of 
cause  is  "an  object  precedent  and  contiguous  to  another, 
and  so  united  with  it  that  the  idea  of  the  one  determines 
the  mind  to  form  the  idea  of  the  other,  and  the  impres- 
sion of  the  one  to  form  a  more  lively  idea  of  the  other." 

Hume's  doctrine  is  founded  on  his  favorite  principle, 
"  that  all  our  ideas  are  copied  from  our  impressions." 
But  the  necessary  connection  of  cause  and  effect  cannot 
be  in  the  impression,  for  "  when  I  cast  my  eye  on  the 
known  qualities  of  objects,  I  immediately  discover  that  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  depends  not  the  least  on  them." 
Kot  being  in  the  impression,  it  cannot  be  found  in  the 
idea.  Now  it  is  here,  we  apprehend,  that  Hume  is  to  be 
met.  We  have  disputed  his  theory  that  the  mind  begins 
with  mere  impressions :  it  commences  with  the  perception 
or  knowledge  of  objects  within  itself  and  without  itself. 
'Now  in  its  primitive  perception  of  objects  it  knows  them 
as  having  power ;  it  knows  self  as  a  power  and  it  knows 


144  DAVID  HUME. 

the  not-self  as  a  power — as  a  power  in  resisting  and  im- 
pressing the  self.  Here  is  the  imjpression^  if  any  one  will 
call  it  so  (we  call  it  knowledge),  that  gives  use  to  the  idea, 
which  may  be  separated  in  thought  by  abstraction  and 
put  in  the  form  of  a  maxim  by  generalization. 

Unfortunately,  as  I  think,  the  opponents  of  Hume  have 
not  always  met  him  at  the  proper  point.  They  have 
allowed  to  him  that  we  have  no  original  knowledge  of 
power  in  the  objects,  and  having  given  this  entrance  to  the 
sceptic,  they  find  great  difficulty  in  resisting  his  further 
ravages.  Sometimes  they  have  endeavored  to  discover  a 
nexus  of  some  kind  hetween  the  cause  and  its  effect,  but 
have  always  failed  to  tell  what  the  bond  is.  Causation  is 
not  to  be  regarded  as  a  connection  'between  cause  and  ef- 
fect, but  a  power  in  the  object,  that  is,  substance  (or  objects 
and  substances),  acting  as  the  cause  to  produce  the  effect. 
Kant  labored  to  oppose  the  scepticism  of  the  Scotchman 
by  supposing  that  the  mind  by  its  own  forms  bound  to- 
gether events  in  its  contemplation  of  them.  But  when 
he  allowed  that  the  power  was  not  in  the  objects,  he  in- 
troduced a  more  subtle  and  perilous  skepticism  than  that 
which  he  sought  to  overthrow.  We  avoid  this  subjective 
idealism  by  insisting  that  it  is  on  the  bare  contemplation 
of  a  thing  becoming,  and  not  by  the  mere  association  of 
ideas  and  custom  (which  may  aid),  that  we  declare  that  it 
must  have  had  a  cause. 


PEKSONALITY  AND  IDENTITY.  145 

SECTION  VI. 

PEKSONALITY   AND   mENTITY. 

He  is  now  prepared  to  discuss  two  questions,  "  Why  we 
attribute  a  continued  existence  to  objects  even  when  they 
are  not  present  to  the  senses,  and  why  we  suppose  them  to 
have  an  existence  distinct  from  the  mind  and  perception." 
lie  shows,  as  to  the  first,  the  senses  give  us  nothing  but  a 
present  perception,  and  as  to  tlie  second,  that  our  percep- 
tions being  of  ourselves  can  never  give  us  the  least  in- 
timation of  anything  beyond.  He  dwells  in  the  usual 
manner  on  the  acknowledged  unreality  of  what  have  been 
called  the  secondary  qualities  of  matter,  and  as  we  naturally 
look  upon  the  primary  qualities,  such  as  motion  and 
solidity,  and  the  secondary  qualities,  such  as  colors,  sounds, 
heat,  and  cold,  as  alike  real,  so  we  must  philosophically 
consider  them  as  alike  unreal.  After  the  manner  of  the 
times  he  rejects  the  notion  that  we  can  immediately  per- 
ceive our  bodily  frame  and  not  mere  impressions,  and  that 
we  can  know  both  the  ''  objects  and  ourselves."  But 
whence,  it  is  asked,  the  coherence  and  constancy  of  certain 
impressions?  He  accounts  for  it  on  the  principle  that  the 
thought,  according  to  the  laws  of  association,  slides  from 
one  impression  to  others  with  which  it  has  been  joined 
and  reckons  them  the  same,  and  mistakes  the  succession  of 
images  for  an  identity  of  objects.  The  result  reached  by 
him  is:  "All  our  distinct  perceptions  are  distinct  exist- 
ences," and  "  the  mind  never  perceives  any  real  connection 
among  distinct  existences."  "  What  we  call  mind  is  noth- 
ing but  a  heap  or  collection  of  diiferent  impressions  united 
together  by  certain  relations,  and  supposed,  though  falsely, 
to  be  endowed  with  a  perfect  simplicity,  and  identity." 


•X46  DAVID  HUME. 

He  gives  the  same  account  of  what  we  call  matter.  He 
shows  that  having  nothing  hut  impressions  w^e  can  never, 
on  the  mere  ground  of  a  conjunction  which  we  have  never 
witnessed,  argue  from  our  perceptions  to  the  existence  of 
external  continued  objects;  and  he  proves  (verj  conclu- 
sively, we  think,  on  his  assumption)  that  we  could  never 
have  any  reason  to  infer  that  the  suj)posed  objects  re- 
semble our  sensations.^  He  now  draws  his  sceptical 
conclusion :  "  There  is  a  direct  and  total  opposition  be- 
twixt our  reason  and  our  senses,  or  more  properly  speaking 
betwixt  those  conclusions  which  we  form  from  cause 
and  effect  and  those  that  persuade  us  of  the  continued  and 
independent  existence  of  body.  When  we  reason  from 
cause  and  effect  we  conclude  that  neither  color,  sound, 
taste,  nor  smell  has  a  continued  and  independent  exist- 
ence. When  we  exclude  these  sensible  qualities  there  re- 
mains nothing  in  the  universe  which  has  such  an  existence." 

.  1  Here  again,  from  like  premises,  Mr.  Mill  lias  arrived  at  much  the 
same  conclusions.  Mind,  according  to  him,  is  "  a  series  of  feelings" 
with  *'  a  belief  of  the  permanent  possibility  of  the  feelings."  He  is  to 
be  met  by  showing  that  in  every  conscious  act  we  know  self  as  existing  ; 
that  when  we  remember,  we  remember  self  as  in  some  state  ;  and  that 
on  comparing  the  former  self  with  the  present  we  declare  them  to  be 
the  same.  This  implies  more  than  a  mere  series  of  feelings  or  a  belief 
(he  does  not  well  know  what  to  make  of  this  belief)  in  possibilities — 
it  implies  a  self  existing  and  feeling  now  and  in  time  past.  Again, 
"Matter  may  be  defined  the  permanent  possibility  of  sensation."  He 
is  to  be  met  here  by  showing  that  we  apprehend  matter  as  an  existence 
external  and  extended,  and  that  we  cannot  get  this  idea  of  extension 
from  mere  sensations  which  are  not  extended  (see  supra,  foot-note,  p. 
22).  As  to  the  contradiction  between  the  senses  and  the  reason  which 
Hume  allows,  Mr  .'Mill  makes  the  reason  and  senses  say  the  same  thing, 
that  we  can  know  nothing  whatever  of  matter  except  as  the  "possibility 
of  sensation,"  and  that  it  "may  be  but  a  mode  in  which  the  mind 
represents  to  itself  the  possibile  modifications  of  the  ego"  (p.  189), 
which  ego  isybut  a  series  of  feelings.  This  conclusion  is  quite  as  blank 
as  that  reached  by  Hume. 


HIS   EELIGIOUS   SCEPTICISM.  147 


SECTION  vn. 

HIS   RELIGIOUS    SCEPTICISM. 

The  question  is,  How  is  such  a  scepticism  to  be  met  ? 
Eeid  opposed  it  by  showing  that  the  sensation  led  us 
intuitively  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  external 
thing,  and  that  the  states  of  self,  known  by  consciousness, 
implied  a  thinking  substance.  The  more  correct  state- 
ment seems  to  me  to  be  that  we  know  at  once  the  external 
objects,  that  intuitively  we  know  our  own  frame  and  ob- 
jects affecting  it,  that  we  are  conscious  not  of  states  arguing 
a  self  but  of  self  in  a  certain  state,  and  that  on  comparing 
a  former  self  recalled  by  memory  and  a  present  self  known 
by  consciousness,  we  declare  them  to  be  the  same.  Kant 
certainly  did  not  meet  the  scepticism  of  Hume  in  a  wise 
or  in  an  effective  manner  when  he  supposed  that  the 
unity  was  given  to  the  scattered  phenomena  by  forms  in 
the  mind. 

It  is  clear  that  all  the  usual  psychological  arguments 
for  the  immateriality  and  immortality  of  the  soul  are  cut 
up  and  destroyed  by  this  theory.  We  cannot  speak  of  the 
soul  as  either  material  or  spiritual,  for  we  know  nothing 
either  of  matter  or  spirit  except  as  momentary  impres- 
sions. "  The  identity  wliich  we  ascribe  to  the  mind  of 
man  is  only  a  fictitious  one."  Identity  is  nothing  really 
belonging  to  these  different  perceptions,  but  is  merely  a 
quality  which  we  attribute  to  them  because  of  the  union 
of  their  ideas  in  the  imagination  when  we  reflect  upon 
them. 

His  theory  of  causation  undermines  the  argument  for 
the  Divine  existence.     He  carefully  abstains  from  dwell- 


148  DAVID   HUME. 

ing  on  this  in  his  great  philosophic  wOrk,  but  he  expounds 
it  at  length  and  with  all  his  intellectual  power  in  his 
Dialogues  on  Natural  Religion.  We  know  nothing  of 
cause  except  that  it  has  been  observed  to  be  the  antece- 
dent of  its  effect ;  when  we  have  noticed  an  occurrence 
usually  preceded  by  another  occurrence  we  may,  on  dis- 
covering the  one,  look  for  the  other.  But  when  "we  have 
never  seen  the  events  together,  we  have  really  nothing  to 
guide  us  in  arguing  from  the  one  to  the  other.  We  can 
argue  that  a  watch  implies  a  watchmaker,  for  we  have 
observed  them  together,  but  never  having  had  any  ex- 
perience of  the  making  of  a  world,  w^e  cannot  argue  that 
the  existence  of  a  world  implies  the  existence  of  a  world- 
maker.  There  is  no  effective  way  of  answering  this  ob- 
jection but  by  maintaining  that  an  effect  necessarily 
implies  a  cause.  It  was  on  this  ground  that  he  was  met 
by  Reid,  who  argues  that  traces  of  design  in  God's  works 
argue  an  intelligent  cause.  Kant  deprived  himself  of  the 
right  to  argue  in  this  way  by  making  the  mind  itself  im- 
pose the  relation  of  causation  on  events,  so  that  we  cannot 
argue  that  there  is  a  corresponding  law  in  the  things 
themselves.  Hume  urges  with  great  force  and  ingenuity, 
as  Kant  did  after  him,  that  if  we  are  compelled  to  seek 
for  a  cause  of  every  object  we  must  also  seek  for  a  cause 
of  the  Divine  Being.  This  is  to  be  met  by  showing  that 
our  intuitive  conviction  simply  requires  us  to  seek  for  a 
cause  of  a  new  occurrence.  He  argues,  as  Kant  also  did 
after  him,  that  the  existence  of  order  in  the  universe  could 
at  best  prove  merely  a  finite,  and  not  an  infinite  cause.  The 
reply  is  that  we  must  seek  for  the  evidence  of  the  infinity 
of  God  in  the  peculiar  conviction  of  the  mind  in  regard  to 
the  infinite  and  the  perfect.' 

'  Mr.  Mi^  has  adopted  Hume's  doctrine  of  causation  witli  a  few  modi- 
fications.    Tlie  cxuestion  is,  Has  he  left  to  himself  or  to  his  followers  an 


HIS   EELIGIOUS    SCEPTICISM.  149 

This  may  be  the  most  expedient  place  for  stating  and 
examining  his  famous  argument  against  miracles,  as  ad- 
vanced in  his  essay  on  the  subject.  It  is  clear  that  he 
could  not  argue,  as  some  have  done,  that  a  miracle  is  an 
impossibility,  or  that  it  is  contrary  to  the  nature  of  things. 
He  assails  not  the  possibility  of  the  occurrence  of  a  mirac- 
ulous event  but  the  proof  of  it.  Experience  being  with 
him  the  only  criterion  of  truth,  it  is  to  experience  he  ap- 
peals. He  maintains  that  there  has  been  an  invariable  ex- 
perience in  favor  of  the  uniformity  of  nature,  and  that  a 
miracle  being  a  violation  of  a  law  of  nature  can  never  be 
established  by  as  strong  proof  as  what  can  be  urged 
against  it.  He  then  exerts  his  ingenuity  in  disparaging 
the  evidence  usually  urged  in  behalf  of  miraculous  occur- 
rences by  showing  how  apt  mankind  are  to  be  swayed  on 
such  subjects  by  such  principles  as  fear,  wonder,  and 
fancy.  We  are  not  sure  whether  Hume  has  always  been 
opposed  in  a  wise  or  judicious  manner  by  his  opponents 
on  this  subject.  It  is  of  little  use  showing  that  there 
is  some  sort  of  original  instinct  leading  us  to  believe  in 

argument  for  the  Divine  existence  ?  He  advises  the  defenders  of  theism 
to  stick  by  the  argument  from  design,  but  does  not  say  that  it  has 
convinced  himself.  The  advice  is  a  sound  one  ;  we  should  not  give  up 
the  argument  from  design  because  of  the  objections  of  Kant,  which 
derive  their  force  from  the  errors  of  his  philosophy.  Mr.  Mill  says  that 
we  can  "  lind  no  difficulty  in  conceiving  that  in  some  one  of  the  many 
firmaments  into  which  sidereal  astronomy  now  divides  the  universe 
events  may  succeed  one  another  at  random,  without  any  fixed  law  " 
{Logic,  B.  iii. ,  C.  21).  We  should  like  to  see  an  attempt  made  to  construct 
an  argument  for  the  Divine  existence  by  those  who  accept  this  view. 
Mr.  Mill  shows  that  our  belief  in  the  uniformity  of  nature  is  the  result 
of  experience.  But  the  uniformity  of  nature  is  one  thing  and  causa- 
tion is  a  different  thing.  He  should  be  met  by  showing  that  we  have 
a  necessary  conviction,  that  every  thing  that  begins  to  be  has  a  cause, 
and  that  he  has  utterly  failed  in  deriving  this  conviction  from  sensa- 
tions and  associations. 


150:  DAVID   HUME. 

testimony,  for  this  instinct,  i£  it  exists,  often  leads  us 
astray,  and  we  must  still  go  to  experience  to  indicate  what 
we  are  to  trust  in,  and  what  we  are  to  discard.  But  the 
opponents  of  Hume  were  perfectly  right  when  they  showed 
that  in  maintaining  that  nature  always  acted  according 
to  certain  mundane  laws  they  were  assuming  the  point  in 
dispute.  Let  us  admit  that  the  whole  question  is  to  be 
decided  by  experiential  evidence.  Let  us  concede  that 
in  the  present  advanced  state  of  science  there  is  ample 
evidence  that  there  is  a  uniformity  in  nature ;  but  then 
let  us  place  alongside  of  this  a  counterpart  fact  that  there 
is  a  sufficient  body  of  evidence  in  favor  of  there  being  a 
supernatural  system.  For  this  purpose  let  the  cumulative 
proofs  in  behalf  of  Christianity,  external  and  internal,  be 
adduced  :  those  derived  from  testimony  and  from  proph- 
ecy, and  those  drawn  from  the  unity  of  design  in  the 
revelation  of  doctrine  and  morality,  and  from  the  charac- 
ter of  Jesus,  and  we  shall  find  that  in  their  consistency 
and  congruity  they  are  not  unlike  those  which  can  be  ad- 
vanced in  behalf  of  the  existence  of  a  natural  system. 


SECTION  VIII. 

MOKALS. 

In  Book  Second  he  treats  of  the  Passions,  on  which  he 
seems  to  me  to  throw  no  light,  and  therefore  I  pass  it 
over. 

In  Book  Third  he  treats  of  Morals,  and  starts  his  utili- 
tarian theory,'  which,  however,  he  develops  more  fully, 
and  in  a  livelier,  more  pointed,  and  ornate  manner  in  his 
essay — "  An  Inquiry  Concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals." 
He  says  of  this  work,  that  it  "  is  of  all  my  writings,  his- 
torical, philosophical,  or  literary,  incomparably  the  best." 


MORALS.  151 

In  respect  to  practical  influence  it  lias  certainly  been  the 
most  important.  By  his  speculative  doubts  in  regard  to 
the  operations  of  the  understanding  he  has  furnished  a 
gymnastic  to  metaphysicians  ever  since  his  time,  but  by 
his  theory  of  virtue  he  has  swayed  belief  and  practice. 

He  shows  that  we  cannot  distinguish  between  good  and 
evil  by  reason  alone,  defining  reason  as  the  discovery  of 
truth  or  falsehood,  and  truth  and  falsehood  as  consisting 
in  the  agreement  or  disagreement,  either  to  the  real  rela- 
tion of  ideas  or  to  real  evidence  and  matter  of  fact.  Taking 
reason  in  this  sense  it  certainly  cannot  be  said  to  discern  the 
morally  good ;  but  then  it  may  be  maintained  that  the 
mind  has  a  power  of  discerning  moral  good  and  evil  anal- 
ogous to  the  reason  which  distinguishes  truth  and  false- 
hood, and  all  that  he  could  urge  in  opposition  would  be, 
that  such  a  view  is  inconsistent  with  liis  theory  of  impres- 
sions and  ideas.  It  is  by  no  means  clear  what  is  the 
faculty  or  feeling  to  which  he  allots  the  function  of  per- 
ceiving and  approving  the  morally  good.  Sometimes  he 
seems  to  make  man  a  selfish  being,  swayed  only  by  mo- 
tives of  pleasure  or  pain,  and  in  this  view,  virtue  is  to  be 
regarded  as  good  because  associated  directly  or  indirectly 
with  the  pleasure  it  could  bring  to  ourselves.  But  in  other 
places  he  calls  in  a  "  benevolent  sentiment  leading  us  to 
approve  what  is  useful."  Hume's  general  theory  might 
certainly  seem  opposed  to  every  thing  innate^  and  yet  in 
criticising  Locke  he  is  obliged  to  say,  "  I  should  desire  to 
know  what  can  be  meant  by  asserting  that  self-love  or 
resentment  of  injuries  or  passion  between  the  sexes  is  not 
innate."  We  have  already  quoted  passages  in  which  he 
appeals  to  instincts.  He  says  elsewhere,  "  The  mind  by 
an  original  instinct  tends  to  unite  itself  with  the  good  and 
avoid  the  evil."  At  times  he  seems  to  adhere  to  the 
theory  of  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson  as  to  the  existence 


152  DAVID  HUME. 

of  a  moral  sense.  "  The  mind  of  man  is  so  formed  by 
nature,  that  upon  the  appearance  of  certain  characters, 
dispositions,  and  actions,  it  immediately  feels  the  senti- 
ment of  approbation  or  blame."  He  tells  us  expressly 
that  he  is  inclined  to  think  it  probable  that  the  final  sen- 
tence in  regard  to  moral  excellence  "  depends  on  some  in- 
ternal sense  or  feeling  which  nature  has  made  universal 
in  the  whole  species."  We  believe  that  we  cannot  account 
for  the  ideas  in  the  mind  except  by  calling  in  such  a 
faculty  or  feeling ;  and  it  was  his  business,  as  an  experi- 
mental inquirer,  to  ascertain  all  that  is  in  this  power,  and 
to  determine  its  mode  of  operation  and  its  laws.  But  such 
an  investigation  would  have  overthrown  his  whole  theory, 
metaphysical  as  well  as  ethical. 

According  to  Hume,  virtue  consists  in  the  agreeable  and 
useful.  "Vice  and  virtue  may  be  compared  to  sounds, 
colors,  heat,  and  cold,  which  according  to  modern  philos- 
ophy are  not  qualities  in  objects  but  perceptions  in  the 
mind."  "  Yirtue  is  distinguished  by  the  pleasure  and 
vice  by  the  pain,  that  any  active  sentiment  a  character 
gives  us  by  his  mere  view  and  contemplation."  This 
theory  goes  a  step  farther  than  that  of  Hutcheson  in  the 
same  direction.  Hutcheson  placed  virtue  in  benevolence, 
thereby  making  the  intention  of  the  agent  necessary  to 
virtue,  whereas  Hume  does  not  regard  it  as  necessary  that 
it  should  be  voluntary  and  requij-es  us  to  look  merely  to 
the  act  and  its  tendency.  His  definition  might  lead  one 
to  think  that  an  easy  road  or  a  pleasant  carriage  should  be 
regarded  as  virtuous.  But  he  will  not  admit  that  because 
an  inanimate  object  may  be  useful  as  well  as  a  man  that 
therefore  it  ought  also  to  merit  the  appellation  of  virtuous, 
for  he  says :  "  The  sentiments  excited  by  utility  are  in  the 
two  cases  very  different,  and  the  one  is  mixed  with  affec- 
tion, esteem,  approbation,  and  not  the  other."     This  Ian- 


MORALS.  153 

guage,  more  particularly  the  phrases  "  esteem  "  and  "  ap- 
probation," might  have  led  him  to  discover  that  there  is  a 
peculiar  judgment  or  sentiment  attached  to  virtuous  action 
not  produced  by  mere  utility. 

lie  easily  satisfies  himself  that  he  can  show  that  be- 
nevolence is  a  virtue  because  it  is  so  agreeable  and  useful. 
But  he  never  faces  the  real  difficulty,  which  is  to  account 
for  the  sense  of  obligation  which  we  feel  and  the  obliga- 
tion actually  lying  upon  us  to  do  good  to  others/  He 
strives  to  show  that  justice  is  commended  by  us  because 
of  its  beneficial  tendency.  Justice  can  have  a  meaning, 
he  maintains,  only  in  regard  to  society  and  arrangements 
made  with  others.  True,  the  giving  to  every  one  his  due 
implies  beings  to  whom  the  due  is  owing,  but  the  due  arises 
from  the  relation  in  which  we  stand  to  these  beings. 
Thus  the  first  man  or  woman  having  children  had  duties 
to  discharge  toward  them  as  soon  as  they  were  born,  and 
independent  of  any  promise.  lie  labors  to  prove  that  our 
obligation  to  keep  a  promise  arises  from  utility.  "  Fidelity 
is  no  natural  virtue  and  promises  have  no  force  antecedent 
to  human  conventions."  True,  a  promise  implies  a  person 
to  whom  it  is  made,  but  once  made  the  obligation  is  com- 
plete. 

This  leads  us  at  once  to  tlie  fundamental  objections 
which  may  be  taken  to  the  utilitarian  theory.  "Whence  the 
obligation  lying  on  us  to  promote  the  happiness  of  others  ? 
to  give  others  their  due  ?  to  keep  our  promises  ?  From 
their  utility,  it  is  answered.  But  why  are  we  bound  to  at- 
tend to  what  is  useful  ?  is  the  question  that  immediately 
occurs.     Why  the  reproach  that  follows  and  which  justi- 

'  In  his  TJtilitarianism  Mr.  Mill  has  endeavored  to  defend  the 
theory  from  the  objections  commonly  taken  to  it.  But  he  has  utterly 
failed  in  his  attempt  to  derive  our  idea  and  conviction  of  moral  good 
from  mere  sensations  and  associations  of  sensation. 


154  DAVID   HUME. 

fies  itself  when  we  have  failed  to  keep  our  word  ?  These 
questionings  bring  us  to  a  justice  which  guards  conven- 
tions, to  a  law  which  enjoins  love. 

The  practical  morality  sanctioned  by  the  system  and 
actually  recommended  by  Hume  excludes  all  the  higher 
virtues  and  loftier  graces.  The  adoration  of  a  Supreme 
Being  and  love  to  him  are  represented  as  superstition.  He 
has  no  God  to  sanction  the  moral  law,  and  no  judgment- 
day  at  which  men  have  to  give  in  an  account.  Repentance 
has  and  can  have  no  place  in  a  system  which  has  no  fixed 
law  and  no  conscience.  Humility,  of  which  he  treats  at 
great  length,  is  disparaged.  The  stern  virtues  of  justice, 
of  self-sacrifice,  of  zeal  in  a  good  cause,  of  faithfulness 
in  denouncing  evil,  and  of  courage  in  stemming  the  tide  of 
error  and  corruption,  these  are  often  so  innnediately  disa- 
greeable that  their  ultimate  utility  will  never  be  perceived 
except  by  those  who  are  swayed  by  a  higher  principle.  It 
is  certain  that  they  were  not  valued  by  Hume,  who  speaks 
of  them  as  superstition  and  bigotry  and  characterizes  those 
who  practise  them  as  zealots  and  fanatics.  His  view  of 
the  marriage  relation  was  of  a  loose  and  flexible  character 
and  did  not  profess  to  discountenance  the  evil  practices  of 
his  time.  "  A  man  in  conjoining  himself  to  a  woman  is 
bound  to  her  according  to  the  terms  of  his  engagement : 
in  begetting  children  he  is  bound  by  all  the  ties  of  nature 
and  humanity  to  provide  for  them  sustenance  and  educa- 
tion. When  he  has  performed  these  two  parts  of  duty, 
no  one  can  reproach  him  with  injustice  or  injury."  Kot 
acknowledging  a  God  bestowing  the  gift  of  life  and  requir- 
ing us  to  give  an  account  of  the  use  we  make  of  it,  and 
setting  no  value  on  courage  in  difficulties,  he  argues  that  a 
man  may  take  away  his  life  when  it  is  no  longer  useful. 

The  st^te  of  society  which  he  aimed  at  producing  is 
thus  described :    "  But  what  philosophical  truths  can  be 


MORALS.  155 

"more  advantageous  to  society  than  those  here  delivered, 
which  represent  virtue  in  all  her  genuine  and  most  engag- 
ing charms,  and  make  us  approach  her  with  ease,  famil- 
iarity, and  affection?  The  dismal  dress  falls  off  with 
which  many  divines  and  some  philosophers  have  covered 
her,  and  nothing  appears  but  gentleness,  humanity,  benefi- 
cence, affability  ;  nay,  even  at  proper  intervals  play,  frolic, 
and  gayety.  She  talks  not  of  useless  austerities  and  rigors, 
suffering  and  self-denial."  People  have  often  speculated 
as  to  what  Hume  would  have  taught  had  he  been  elected 
Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  Edinburgh.  I  believe 
he  would  have  expounded  a  utilitarian  theory  ending  in 
the  recommendation  of  the  pleasant  social  virtues,  speak- 
ing always  respectfully  of  the  Divine  Being  but  leaving 
his  existence  an  unsettled  question. 

And  what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  conclusion  to  which 
he  wishes  to  bring  us  by  his  whole  philosophy  ?  We  are 
not  sure  that  he  has  confessed  this  to  himself.  Sometimes 
it  looks  as  if  his  sublime  aim  was  to  expose  the  unsatisfac- 
tory condition  of  philosophy,  in  order  to  impel  thinkers 
to  conduct  their  researches  in  a  new  and  more  satisfactory 
manner.  ''  If,  in  order  to  answer  the  doubts  started,  new 
principles  of  philosophy  must  be  laid,  are  not  these  doubts 
themselves  very  useful  ?  Are  they  not  preferable  to  blind 
and  ignorant  assent  ?  I  hope  I  can  answer  my  own  doubts, 
but  if  1  could  not  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  ?  "  "We  verily 
believe  that  this  was  one  of  the  alternatives  he  loved  to 
place  before  him  to  justify  his  scepticism.  "  I  am  apt," 
he  says  in  writing  to  Ilutcheson,  "  to  suspect  in  general 
that  most  of  my  reasonings  will  be  more  useful  in  furnish- 
ing hints  and  exciting  people's  curiosity  than  as  contain- 
ing any  principles  that  will  augment  the  stock  of  knowledge 
that  must  pass  to  future  ages."  But  I  suspect  that  the 
settled  conviction  reached  by  him  was  that  no  certainty 


156  DAVID   HUME. 

could  be  attained  in  speculative  philosophy  ;  he  was  sure 
that  it  had  not  been  attained  in  time  past.  The  tone  of 
the  Introduction  to  his  great  work  is  :  "  There  is  nothing 
which  is  not  the  subject  of  debate  and  in  which  men  of 
learning  are  not  of  contrary  opinions."  "If  truth  be  at 
all  within  the  reach  of  human  capacity,  'tis  certain  it  must 
be  very  deep  and  abstruse,  and  to  hope  we  shall  arrive  at 
it  without  pains,  while  the  greatest  geniuses  have  failed 
with  the  utmost  pains,  must  certainly  be  esteemed  suffi- 
ciently vain  and  presumptuous."  Its  being  thus  deep,  he 
feels  as  if  the  great  body  of  mankind  need  not  trouble 
themselves  much  about  it.  He  seems  at  times  compla- 
cently to  contemplate  this  as  the  issue  to  which  he  would 
drive  mankind ;  for  he  sees  at  once  that  if  men  become 
convinced  that  they  cannot  reach  certainty  in  such  specu- 
lations, they  will  give  up  inquiry.  "  For  nothing  is  more 
certain  than  that  despair  has  ahnost  the  same  effect  upon 
us  as  enjoyment,  and  that  we  are  no  sooner  acquainted 
with  the  impossibility  of  satisfying  any  desire  than  the 
desire  itself  vanishes,"  and  he  thinks  it  a  satisfactory  con- 
dition of  things  when  men  discover  the  impossibility  of 
making  any  farther  progress,"  and  "  make  a  free  confession 
of  their  ignorance."  Considered  in  this  light,  Hume's 
philosophy,  in  its  results,  may  be  considered  as  an  antici- 
j3;ation  of  the  Positive  School  of  M.  Comte,  which  in  the 
Bidtish  section  of  it  approaches  much  nearer  the  position 
of  Hume  than  most  people  are  aware  of. 

He  allows  that  man  should,  as  indeed  he  must,  follow 
kis  natural  impulses  and  the  lessons  of  experience,  as  far 
as  this  world  is  concerned.  But  he  will  grant  nothing 
more.  He  thus  closes  his  inquiry  into  the  understanding : 
"  When  we  trace  up  the  human  understanding  to  its  first 
principless  we  find  it  to  lead  us  into  such  sentiments  as 
seem  to  turn  into  ridicule  all  our  past  pains  and  industry, 


MORALS.  157 

and  to  discourage  ns  from  future  inquiries."  "  The 
understanding,  when  it  acts  alone  and  according  to  its 
general  principles,  entirely  subverts  itself,  and  leaves  not 
the  lowest  degree  of  confidence  in  any  proposition,  either 
in  philosophy  or  common  life."  In  common  life  this  scep- 
ticism meets  with  insuperable  barriers  which  we  should 
not  try  to  overcome.  But  it  is  different  with  philosoph- 
ical, and  we  may  add  theological  truths,  w^hich  are  sup- 
ported solely  by  speculative  considerations.  In  these 
departments  we  may  discuss  and  doubt  as- we  please  with- 
out doing  any  injuiy.  *'•  What  injury  can  ever  come  from 
ingenious  reasoning  and  inquiry  ?  The  worst  speculative 
sceptic  I  ever  knew  was  a  much  better  man  than  the  best 
superstitious  devotee."  Those  who  think  they  can  reach 
truth  in  these  matters  are  at  liberty  to  cherish  their  con- 
viction, provided  always  that  they  do  not  thereby  disturb 
their  neighbors.  But  the  time  is  coming,  and  already 
wise  men  see  it  is  coming,  when  mankind  will  not  concern 
themselves  with  such  speculative  questions,  or  will  engage 
in  them  only  as  a  gymnastic  to  the  intellect,  or  as  a  means 
of  showing  that  ultimate  truth  is  unattainable  by  man. 


PART  SECOND. 

HUXLEY. 
SECTION  IX. 


Peofessok  Huxley  is  a  man  of  strong  intellectual  tastes 
and  tendencies.  He  is  evidently  an  enthusiast  in  his  bio- 
logical studies.  It  is  not  so  generally  known  that  he  is 
also  a  metaphysician.  This  he  has  shown  in  his  published 
address  on  Descartes  and  in  other  papers.  He  has  now 
come  forward  to  defend  the  study.  (See  Popular  Sci- 
ence Monthly,  May,  1879.)  Ivant  has  made  the  remark 
that  we  cannot  do  without  a  metaphysics,  and  others  have 
noticed  that  those  who  affect  to  discard  them  will  com- 
monly be  found  proceeding,  without  their  being  aware 
of  it,  upon  a  very  wretched  metaphysics.  The  Professor 
now  tells  us :  "  In  truth,  the  attempt  to  nourish  the  human 
intellect  upon  a  diet  which  contains  no  metaph3^sics  is  about 
as  hopeful  as  that  of  certain  Eastern  sages  to  nourish  their 
bodies  without*  destroying  life."  He  adds,  "  By  way  of 
escape  from  the  metaphysical  will-o'-the-\yisps  generated  in 
the  marshes  of  literature  and  theology,  the  serious  student 
is  sometimes  bidden  to  betake  himself  to  the  solid  ground 
of  physical  science.     But  the  fish  of  immortal  memory 


159 

.who  threw  himself  out  of  the  frjing-pan  into  the  fire  was 
not  more  ill-advised  than  the  man  who  seeks  sanctuary 
from  philosophical  persecution  within  the  walls  of  the 
observatory  or  of  the  laboratory."  He  shows  that  such 
conceptions  as  "  atoms,"  and  "forces,"  and  as  "energy," 
"  vacuum,"  and  "  plenum,"  all  carry  us,  w^hether  we  will 
or  no,  beyond  a  physical  to  a  metaphysical  sphere. 

I  rather  think  that  the  Professor's  metaphysics  were  de- 
rived primarily  from  David  Hartley,  but  especially  James 
Mill,  reckoned  an  age  or  two  ago  in  England  the  chief 
philosophical  authorities  by  those  not  trained  at  the  two 
English  universities.  Hartley  connected  metaphysics  with 
physiology,  and  James  Mill,  after  abandoning  the  trade  of 
preacher,  adopted  the  fundamental  principles  of  David 
Hume  and  transmitted  them  to  his  son  John  Stuart  Mill, 
who  modified  and  improved  them  by  independent  thought 
and  a  larger  acquaintance  with  other  systems.  Professor 
Huxley  has  now  in  this  work  on  Hume  given  his  own 
philosophy,  which  is  substantially  that  of  Hume  and  James 
Mill,  with  some  not  very  valuable  suggestions  from  Bain, 
and  a  criticism  now  and  then  derived  from  Descartes  and 
Kant,  of  whose  profounder  principles  he  has,  in  the  mean- 
while, no  appreciation.  It  is  expounded  in  the  form  of  an 
epitome  of  the  system  of  the  Scottish  sceptic,  with  con- 
stantly interspersed  criticisms  of  his  own.  His  style  is 
not  that  usually  supposed  to  be  philosophic :  it  is  not  calm, 
or  serene,  or  dignified  ;  but  it  clearly  expresses  his  mean- 
ing and  it  is  graphic,  living,  and  leaping.  He  shows  every- 
where great  acutcness,  and  the  shrewdness  of  one  who  is 
not  to  be  taken  in  by  show  and  pretension  or  awed  by  au- 
thority. No  man  is  quicker  in  starting  an  objection,  which, 
however,  may  be  of  a  surface  character  and  not  penetrat- 
ing into  the  heart  of  the  subject.  I  cannot  discover  in  his 
speculations  the  calmness  of  one  w^ho  is  waiting  for  Jight^ 


160  HUXLEY. 

or  the  comprehension  of  one  who  goes  round  the  object 
examined  and  views  it  on  all  sides. 

Mr.  Darwin  has  elected  and  proclaimed  Professor  Hux- 
ley as  the  philosopher  of  his  school,  and  this  when  many 
would  place  Herbert  Spencer  above  him.  I  treat  and  crit- 
icise him  as  such.  Most  of  the  members  of  the  school  are 
not  professed  metaphysicians;  but  like  the  man  in  the 
French  play  who  spoke  piose  all  his  life  without  knowing 
it,  there  is  a  metaphysics  underlying  their  reasonings,  and 
this  metaphysics,  without  their  being  aware,  is  very  much 
that  of  Mr.  Huxley.  I  venture  not  to  urge  objections  to 
his  biology,  of  which  he  is  a  master  and  to  be  reviewed 
only  by  a  master  in  his  department.  But  he  is  not  so 
formidable  as  a  metaphysician,  and  one  with  but  a  sling 
and  stone  may  cast  him  down  and  scatter  the  philosophy 
of  his  admiring  host,  by  a  few  facts  as  clearly  revealed  to 
our  inner  consciousness  as  the  facts  of  physiology  are  to 
the  external  senses. 

We  have  seen  that  Hume  makes  the  mind  percipient 
only  of  Impressions  and  Ideas.  Huxley  adopts  this  defec- 
tive view.  He  amends  it  by  simply  classifying  the  Im- 
pressions into  A,  Sensations ;  ^,  Pleasure  and  Pain ;  and 
(7,  Relations.  Let  us  confine  our  attention  for  the  present 
to  the  first  two,  to  Impressions  A,  of  Sensation,  and  B,  of 
Pleasure  and  Pain.  Let  us  notice  what  we  have  got  as  he 
describes  it :  ''  When  a  red  light  flashes  across  the  field  of 
vision  there  arises  in  the  mind  an  impression  of  sensation 
which  we  call  red.  It  appears  to  me  that  this  sensation 
red  is  something  which  may  exist,  altogether  independ- 
ently of  any  other  impression  or  idea,  as  an  individual  ex- 
istence." "  The  whole  content  of  consciousness  might  be 
that  impression."  These  Impressions  with  the  Pleasure 
and  Pain  ^re  represented  by  him  as  knowledge;  this  with- 
out a  thing  knowing  or  a  thing  known.     It  is  such  knowl- 


Huxley's  hume.  161 

edge  with  which  man  starts,  such  knowledge  as  man  can 
attain,  and  the  foundation  of  all  other  knowledge. 

He  has  already  laid  the  foundation  of  Agnostics.  He 
has  started  with  an  assumed  principle  from  which  only 
nescience  can  follow.  These  Impressions  can  never  by 
logic  or  any  legitimate  process  give  us  the  knowledge  of 
things.  The  addition  or  multiplication  of  0  can  give  us 
only  0  ;  so  the  additions  or  multiplications  of  Impressions, 
of  Sensations,  of  Pleasures  and  Pains,  can  give  us  only  Im- 
pressions in  Sensations  and  in  Pleasures  and  Pains. 

Now  all  this  is  to  be  met  by  showing  that  the  mind 
begins  in  sense-perception  with  the  knowledge  of  things. 
It  knows  this  stone  as  an  existing  and  resisting  object.  It 
knows  self  as  perceiving  this  object.  "  The  whole  content 
of  consciousness  "  never  is  a  mere  impression,  say  a  sensa- 
tion of  red.  It  is  of  a  thing  impressed.  If  I  am  asked  for 
my  proof,  I  answer  that  all  this  is  contained  in  my  very 
consciousness.  I  have  in  fact  the  same  evidence  of  this  as 
I  have  of  the  existence  of  the  impression  "  red."  I  am 
conscious  of  self  perceiving  a  red  object.  Indeed,  any  im- 
pression I  may  have  is  an  abstraction  taken  from  the  self 
impressed. 

11.  Omitting  for  the  present  the  Impressions  of  Eolation, 
we  now  view  the  only  other  content  which  he  gives  the 
mind.  Ideas,  which  he  defines  "copies  or  reproductions  in 
memory  of  the  foregoing."  We  are  here  at  the  point  at 
which  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  was  so  perjDlexed.  He  saw,  and  ac- 
knowledged in  his  candor,  that  in  memory  there  is  more 
than  a  mere  copy  or  a  reproduction.  There  is  the  'belief 
that  the  event  Tevieinhered  has  heen  before  us  in  time  jpast. 
We  thus  get  the  idea  of  time  always  in  the  concrete,  that 
is  an  event  in  time,  and  by  abstraction  we  can  separate  the 
time  from  the  events  in  time.  We  have  got  more.  We 
intuitively  believe  that  we  are  the  same  persons  at  the 


162  HUXLEY. 

present  time  as  we  were  when,  days  or  years  ago,  we  wit 
nessed  tiie  event.  We  cannot  be  made  to  believe  other- 
wise. In  this  process  we  are  adding  knowledge  to  knowl- 
edge, and  this  a  knowledge  of  ourselves  and  of  other  things. 
These  are  all  revealed  to  and  attested  by  consciousness, 
the  organ  of  things  internal.  The  person  who  would  over- 
look such  important  facts  as  these  in  the  animal  structure 
would  be  terribly  lacerated  by  our  acute  zoologists. 

III.  The  next  step  in  the  progress  of  the  mind  is  the 
discovery  of  Eelations.  Hume's  account  of  the  relations 
which  the  mind  can  discover  is  taken  from  Locke,  and  im- 
proved, and  is  very  large  and  comprehensive.  lie  makes 
them  to  be  seven  in  number :  Eesemblance,  Identity, 
Space  and  Time,  Quantity,  Quality,  Contrariety,  Cause 
and  Effect.  He  exerts  all  his  ingenuity,  I  believe  fruit- 
lessly, to  show  that  these  cannot  extend  our  knowledge 
beyond  impressions,  and  ideas,  which  are  mere  reproduc- 
tions of  hnpressions.  They  are  relations  of  impressions  and 
ideas,  and  not  of  things.  We  meet  this  scepticism  on  the 
part  of  Hume,  and  agnosticism  on  the  part  of  Huxley,  by 
maintaining  that  what  we  perceive  originally  are  things, 
and  what  we  perceive  by  the  faculty  that  discovers  rela- 
tions are  relations  of  things.  When  we  classify  plants  by 
their  resemblances,  we  classify  the  plants  and  not  impres- 
pions.  When  we  decide  that  a  thing  which  begins  to  be 
must  have  a  cause,  we  have  a  reality,  first  in  the  thing  that 
begins  to  be,  which  implies,  secondly,  a  reality  in  the  cause 
which  we  regard  as  producing  it.  It  is  thus  that  we  argue 
that  the  present  configuration  of  the  earth,  being  an  objec- 
tive reality,  is  the  result  of  agencies  which  acted  thousands 
or  millions  of  years  ago.  It  is  thus  that  we  argue  that 
the  adaptation  we  see  in  the  eye  must  have  had  a  cause  in 
an  adapting,  that  is,  a  designing  power. 

Professor  Huxley's  account  of  the  delations  which  the 


HUXLEY'S   HUME.  163 

mind  can  discover,  is  much  more  meagre  tlian  that  of 
Hume.  Apparently  following  Professor  Bain,  he  makes 
them  consist  in  coexistence,  succession,  and  similarity.  He 
thus  gets  rid  dexterously  of  the  Relations  of  Quantity,  on 
which  mathematics,  with  all  their  certainty,  so  obnoxious 
to  the  sceptic,  depend  ;  and  of  Identity,  w^hich  certifies  to 
the  soul's  continued  and  permanent  existence ;  and  of  Cau- 
sation, which  leads  us  from  harmonies  and  adaptations, 
from  order  and  design  in  nature,  to  rise  to  a  producing 
power  in  a  designing  mind.  The  three  which  he  acknowl- 
edges— Similarity,  Coexistence,  and  Succession — are  all 
regarded  as  relations  among  Impressions  and  Ideas,  and 
tell  us  nothing  as  to  realities. 

This  is  the  intellectual  furniture  of  the  mind,  according 
to-  Huxley.  Observe  wdiat  it  is  :  Impressions,  Ideas  and 
Relations  among  these.  He  calls  these  the  "  Contents  of 
the  Mind."  It  is  the  most  miserably  defective  account  of 
the  mental  powers  I  have  met  with  anywdiere,  more  so  than 
that  given  even  by  Condillac  and  the  sensational  school  of 
France,  who  gave  to  the  mind  a  power  of  transforniiiig  its 
sensations  into  a  considerable  number  and  variety  of  ele- 
vated ideas. 

lY.  Having  thus  allotted  to  the  mind  so  small  a  content, 
he  finds  it  the  more  easy  to  refer  the  whole  to  cerebral 
and  nervous  action.  "  The  upshot  of  all  this  is,  that  the 
collection  of  perceptions  which  constitutes  the  mind  is 
really  a  system  of  effects,  the  causes  of  which  are  to  be 
sought  in  antecedent  changes  of  the  matter  of  the  brain, 
just  as  '  the  collection  of  motions '  which  we  call  flying  is 
a  system  of  effects,  the  causes  of  which  are  to  be  sought 
in  the  modes  of  motion  of  the  muscles  of  the  wings.  .  .  . 
What  w^e  call  the  operations  of  the  mind  are  functions  of 
the  brain,  and  the  materials  of  consciousness  are  products 
of  cerebral  activity." 


164  HUXLEY. 

The  Professor  here  defends  a  doctrine  from  which  I 
rather  think  Hume  would  have  turned  away.  With  all 
his  scepticism  Hume  was  fond  of  dwelling  on  mental 
rather  than  on  material  operations.  Such  sentences  show 
that  Huxley  may  be  properly  called  a  materialist.  He  de- 
nies, indeed,  that  he  is  a  materialist.  The  fact  is,  that  he 
is  an  ao:nostic,  believino;  in  neither  mind  nor  matter  as 
substances.  But  then  he  makes  all  agency  material.  "  The 
roots  of  psychology  lie  in  the  physiology  of  the  nervous 
system."  He  gives  a  physical  basis  to  all  mental  action — 
inconsistently,  I  think,  for  I  cannot  find  that  on  his  prin- 
ciples he  is  entitled  to  seek  for  any  basis.  E^either  reason 
nor  experience  sanctions  the  doctrine  that  matter  can  pro- 
duce mind  ;  that  molecules  or  masses  of  matter  ean  think, 
or  feel,  or  discover  the  distinction  between  good  and  evil. 
At  this  point  Huxley  seems  to  separate  from  such  men  as 
Tyndall  and  Dii  Bois  Beymond,  who  tell  us  that  to  bridge 
the  wide  gulf  that  divides  mind  from  matter  is  altogether 
beyond  human  capacity  or  conception. 

y.  At  this  point  it  will  be  necessary  to  refer— I  can  do 
60  only  briefly — to  the  question  so  important  in  philos- 
ophy, as  to  whether  the  mind  discovers  some  objects  and 
truths  at  once,  and  w^ithout  a  process,  that  is,  by  intui- 
tion. Hamilton,  in  his  famous  Note  A,  appended  to  his 
edition  of  Beid's  Collected  Works,  has  shown  that  all 
thinkers,  including  even  sceptics,  have  been  obliged  to  as- 
sume something  without  proof,  and  to  justify  themselves 
in  doing  so.  In  my  Examination  of  Mr.  J.  8.  Mills' 
Philosophy^  I  have  shown  that,  in  his  Examination  of 
Hamilton's  Philosojphy  he  has  assumed  between  twenty 
and  thirty  such  principles.  With  Locke,  I  hold  that  the 
primary  mark  of  these  intuitions  is  self-evidence.  We 
perceive  thmgs  and  truths  by  simply  looking  at  them. 
Intuitions  are  not   high  d  priori  truths  independent  of 


Huxley's  hume.  165 

things,  but  tliej  are  involved  in  tlie  very  nature  of  things, 
and  we  perceive  this  as  we  look  at  them.  Thus  we  know, 
by  simply  looking  at  them,  that  things  exist ;  that  if  two 
straight  lines  placed  alongside  proceed  an  inch  w^ithout 
coming  nearer  each  other,  they  will  not  approach  nearer, 
though  prolonged  through  all  space  ;  that  two  things  plus 
two  things  make  four.  Truths  thus  self-evident  to  our 
minds  become  necessary  ;  we  cannot  be  made  to  judge  or 
decide  that  they  are  not  true.  Necessity  is  commonly  put 
forward  by  metaphysicians  such  as  Leibnitz  and  Kant  as 
the  test  of  these  truths.  I  regard  it  as  the  secondary,  the 
primary  being  self-evidence. 

Hume  and  Huxley  have  discussed  the  question  of  'Ne- 
cessity y  especially  as  applied  to  Causation.  Hume  accounts 
for  it  by  custom  and  association  of  ideas ;  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  see  cause  and  effect  together,  and  when  we  see 
the  one  we  are  constrained,  whether  we  will  or  not,  to 
think  of  and  expect  the  other.  But  this  is  not  the  kind 
of  necessity  which  metaphysicians  appeal  to.  Necessity 
as  a  test  of  truth  is  a  necessity  of  cognition,  belief,  or  judg- 
ment, arising  from  our  viewing  the  nature  of  the  object, 
as,  for  example,  when  on  contemplating  two  straight 
lines,  w^e  perceive,  without  any  mediate  proof,  that  they 
cannot  inclose  a  space.  Our  commentator  on  Hume  has 
equally  misunderstood  the  nature  of  this  necessity.  He 
speaks  of  three  kinds  of  necessity.  The  first  is  one  merely 
requiring  the  consistent  use  of  language :  "  The  necessary 
truth  A==A  means  that  the  perception  which  is  called  A 
shall  always  be  called  A."  This  throws  no  light  on  our 
convictions.  The  second,  "  The  necessary  truth  that  '  two 
straight  lines  cannot  inclose  a  space,'  means  that  we  have 
no  memory,  and  can  form  no  expectation  of  their  so 
doing."  The  instance  he  gives  is  a  good  example  of  an 
intuitive  truth  seen  at  once,  and  necessarily  believed  ]  but 


166  HUXLEY. 

it  surely  implies  vastly  more  than  merely  that  we  have  no 
memory,  and  can  form  no  expectation  of  the  straight  lines 
inclosing  a  space ;  it  means  that  we  perceive  that,  from 
the  very  nature  of  things,  two  such  lines  cannot  inclose  a 
space.  He  has  a  third  case  of  necessity,  "  The  denial  of 
the  necessary  truth  that  the  thought  now  in  my  mind 
exists,  involves  the  denial  of  consciousness."  This  is  also 
an  example  of  a  self-evident,  necessary  truth,  but  it  is  so 
because  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  ourselves  as 
existing. 

YI.  Hume's  doctrine  of  causation  takes  a  double  form  ; 
the  one  objective,  the  other  subjective.  These  two  are  in- 
timately connected,  and  yet  they  should  be  carefully  sep- 
arated. Hume  held  that  objective  causation  is  only  in- 
variable antecedence  and  consequence.  This  is  a  doctrine 
contradicted  both  by  metaphysical  and  physical  science. 
It  seems  very  clear  to  me  that  our  intuitions,  looking  on 
objects,  declare  that  they  have  power.  This  is  implied  in 
the  axiom  that  we  know  objects  as  having  properties ;  and 
what  are  properties  but  powers  ?  Then  modern  science 
has  established  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy, 
namel}^,  that  the  sum  of  energy,  actual  and  potential,  in 
the  w^oi'ld  is  always  one  and  the  same.  Causes  are  not 
causes  simply  because  they  are  antecedents  ;  they  are  an- 
tecedents of  the  effects  because  they  have  power  to  produce 
them. 

It  would  be  preposterous,  in  so  short  a  paper  as  this, 
to  dive  into  all  the  subtilities  of  the  subjective  question,  as 
to  wdiether  our  belief  in  causation  is  intuitive,  or  is  derived 
from  a  gathered  experience.  The  settlement  of  this  ques- 
tion will  depend  on  the  way  we  settle  the  one  started 
under  the  last  head,  as  to  whether  there  are  not  truths 
which  shine^n  their  own  light.  If  there  be  such  truths, 
then  causation  is  undoubtedly  one  of  them.     When  we 


167 

see  a  thing  produced,  a  new  thing,  or  a  change  in  an  old 
thing,  we  look  for  a  producing  cause  having  power  in  its 
Yery  nature,  and  ready  to  produce  the  same  effect  in  the 
same  circumstances. 

YII.  By  his  doctrine,  defective  as  I  reckon  it,  Hume 
undermined  the  argument  for  the  Divine  Existence.  There 
is  evidence  in  his  life,  in  his  correspondence,  and  in  his 
philosophic  writings,  that,  like  John  Stuart  Mill,  in  a  later 
age,  he  looked  with  a  feeling  of  favor  upon  the  seeming 
evidence  for  the  existence  of  a  designing  mind  in  the  uni- 
verse. But  neither  of  these  men  could  find  a  conclusive 
argument.  Huxley  follows  them  here.  The  three  are  to 
be  met  in  the  same  way.  The  philosophy  of  all  of  them 
is  erroneous.  Man  has  the  capacity  to  discover  that,  by 
the  very  nature  of  things,  everything  that  begins  to  be 
must  have  a  cause.  If  a  world  begins  to  be,  if  there  be  a 
fitting  of  things  to  one  another  in  the  world,  then  there 
must  be  an  adequate  cause  in  a  power  and  purpose  on  the 
part  of  an  intelligent  Being.  Our  agnostics  can  answer 
this  only  by  making  man  incapable  of  knowing  anything 
of  the  nature  of  things. 

Yin.  According  to  the  philosophy  of  Hume,  there  is  and 
can  be  no  evidence  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  If  the 
mind  be  the  product  of  matter,  specially  of  the  collection 
of  nerves,  then,  on  the  dissolution  of  the  body  generally, 
and  especially  of  the  brain,  there  is  no  proof  that  the  soul 
survives  ;  indeed  there  remain  no  means,  in  fact,  no  possi- 
bility of  its  action.  The  moral  argument  so  powerfully 
urged  by  Kant  in  favor  of  a  judgment-day  and  a  life  to 
come  to  satisfy  the  full  demand  of  the  law,  is  entirely  un- 
dermined in  a  philosophy  which  does  not  admit  of  an 
authoritative  and  imperative  morality,  and  does  not  call  in 
a  God  to  make  the  moral  law  work  out  its  effects.  This 
scepticism  is  to  be  met  by  showing  that  mind  and  matter 


168  HUXLEY. 

are  made  known  to  lis  by  different  organs :  the  one  by  the 
self-consciousness,  and  the  other  by  the  senses ;  and  that 
they  are  known  as  possessing  essentially  different  properties, 
the  one  as  thinking  and  feeling,  and  the  other  as  extended 
and  resisting  our  energy.  That  the  body  dies  is  no  proof 
that  the  soul  must  also  die.  If  these  truths  be  established 
it  is  seen  that  the  usual  arguments  for  another  life  retain 
their  force.  Believing  in  God  and  in  his  law,  we  are  con- 
vinced that  He  will  call  all  men  to  judgment. 

IX.  But  it  may  be  urged  that  though  the  philosophic 
or  scientific  arguments  on  behalf  of  religion  fail  ns,  we 
may  resort  to  revelation.  But  both  Hume  and  Huxley 
deprive  us  of  this  refuge.  Hume  does  not,  like  certain 
bewildered  German  speculators,  deny  the  possibility  of 
a  miracle.  His  position  is,  that  there  is  no  evidence  to 
support  any  given  miracle.  He  defines  miracles  as  a  vio- 
lation of  the  laws  of  nature,  and  labors  to  show  that 
the  testimony  on  behalf  of  a  miracle  is  more  likely  to  be 
false  than  that  the  order  of  nature  should  be  violated. 
Huxley  objects  to  his  definition  of  a  miracle,  as  many  had 
done  before.  But  he  urges  the  same  objection  in  a  some- 
what different  form.  "  The  more  a  statement  of  fact 
conflicts  with  previous  experiences,  the  more  complete 
must  be  the  evidence  to  justify  us  in  believing  it  "  (p.  133). 
He  decides  that  there  is  no  such  evidence  as  is  fitted  to 
sustain  an  occurrence  so  contrary  to  our  experience  as  a 
miracle.  Huxley  advances  nothing  new  on  this  subject, 
and  the  defenders  of  Christianity  maintain  that  they  can 
meet  the  objections  he  adopts.  They  show  first,  that  they 
can  produce  testimony  in  favor  of  certain  miracles,  such  as 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  from  the  dead,  more  full  and  ex- 
plicit than  can  be  advanced  in  behalf  of  the  assassination  of 
Julius  Caesar  or  the  best  authenticated  occurrences  in  an- 
cient times,     xhey  show,  secondly,  that  there  is  an  accu- 


169 

mulation  and  a  combination  of  evidence  in  favor  of  the 
life  and  mission  of  Jesns  Christ:  in  the  prophecies  ut- 
tered ages  before  ;  in  the  results  that  followed  the  propa- 
gation of  the  Gospel;  and  above  all  in  the  fitness  of 
Christ's  work  to  remedy  the  acknowledged  evils  in  the 
world,  and  in  its  adaptation  to  the  felt  wants,  moral  and 
spiritual,  of  man.  It  might  be  shown  that  the  cumulated 
evidence  in  behalf  of  the  Christain  revelation  is  not  unlike 
that  brought  to  prove  the  uniformity  of  nature. 

X.  Professor  Huxley  has  nothing  original  to  advance  on 
the  subject  of  Moral  Good.  Xeither  Hume  nor  Huxley 
holds  the  selfish  theory  of  morals.  Both  hold  that  man 
has  a  native  instinct  w^iich  leads  him  to  sympathize  with 
his  neighbor  and  to  be  pleased  at  seeing  him  happy.  So 
far  both  are  right ;  but  on  the  very  same  ground  on  which 
it  is  shown  that  there  is  a  disposition  in  our  nature  to  pro- 
mote the  pleasure  of  others,  it  can  be  shown  that  there  is  a 
principle  in  our  nature  which  leads  us  to  approve  of  what 
is  good  and  condemn  what  is  evil. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  discover  and  comprehend 
what  Agnosticism  is  as  expounded  by  its  eminent  living 
philosopher.  ^Notwithstanding  the  meaning  of  the  term, 
it  is  claimed  by  the  whole  school  that  there  is  knowledge 
gradually  accumulating.  According  to  our  Professor,  there 
are  sensations,  there  are  pleasures  and  pains,  and  among 
these  are  relations  of  coexistence,  of  succession  and  simi- 
larity. By  observing  these  we  may  form  science,  which  is 
systematized  knowledge.  He  who  is  master  of  the  sciences 
is  a  learned  man  and  may  be  very  proud  or  vain  of  his  ac- 
quirements. Professor  Huxley,  as  being  acquainted  with 
a  number  of  the  sciences,  is  undoubtedly  possessed  of  much 
knowledge. 

What  then,  it  may  be  asked,  is  defective  or  f aultworthy 
in  the  philosophy  of  Agnostics  ?   Its  error  lies  in  its  avowed 


170  HUXLEY. 

fundamental  principle  that  we  know  only  impressions,  oi 
as  Kant  expresses  it,  appearances,  and  do  not  things  either 
mental  or  material.  All  that  we  know  are  impressions, 
impressions  recalled  and  impressions  correlated.  The  cor- 
relations constitute  the  various  sciences. 

There  are  savans  who  have  a  large  acquaintance  with 
these  impressions  and  their  correlations.  But  all  the  while 
they  know  nothing  and  never  can  know,  or  come  nearer 
knowing  the  things  thus  appearing  and  thus  correlated  as 
appearances — i£  indeed  there  are  any  things.  It  is  not 
positively  asserted  that  there  are  things,  but  it  is  certain 
according  to  Ivant,  followed  by  Spencer,  that  they  are  un- 
known and  unknowable  by  man  with  his  present  faculties. 
It  is  curious  to  find  the  metaphysical  Hume  and  the  physi- 
cal Huxley  at  one  on  this  point. 

In  one  sense  Huxley  is  entitled  to  deny  that  he  is  a 
materialist.  He  believes  as  little  in  the  existence  of  matter 
as  he  does  of  mind.  But  he  does  claim  that  the  impres- 
sions which  we  call  mental  are  produced  by  those  we  call 
material,  namely,  cerebral  action.  So  far  he  is  a  materialist, 
and  the  undoubted  tendency  of  his  philosophy  is  material- 
istic— he  makes  matter  the  basis  even  of  mental  action. 
He  is  not,  like  Hume,  a  sceptic,  for  he  does  not  affirm  that 
there  are  no  things  ;  all  that  he  says  is  that  if  they  exist 
we  cannot  know  them,  or  rather  that  things  known  to  us 
are  merely  impressions  in  the  shape  of  sensations — of  sen- 
sations remembered  and  correlated.  He  is  not  an  atheist, 
not  he ;  he  only  says  that  we  have  no  proof  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  He  is  simply  an  honest  Agnostic,  not  believ- 
ing in  mind  or  in  matter  or  in  God.  What  is  the  tend- 
ency of  such  a  system  ? 

It  makes  us  feel  that  we  are  in  a  world  of  illusions.  I 
say  illusions  and  not  deceptions;  for  as  nature  does  not 
profess  or  promise  anything  it  cannot  be  charged  within- 


171 

tentional  deception.  But  then  we  may  be  deceiving  onr- 
selves  or  deceiving  others ;  and  Agnostics  show  that  we  are 
doing  so.  I  maintain  that  it  strips  us  of  many  of  our  nat- 
ural beliefs — beliefs  wliich  men  have  entertained  in  all 
ages  and  countries.  The  great  body  of  mankind  believe 
that  they  themselves,  and  the  objects  that  they  have  to 
deal  with,  are  more  than  impressions,  and  that  they  are 
realities  in  a  real  world  ;  that  there  is  matter  that  is  solid, 
that  there  is  mind  that  thinks  and  feels,  that  we  all  possess 
a  soul,  and  that  our  neighbors  also  have  souls.  I  am  pre- 
pared to  show  that  these  convictions  are  valid ;  that  we 
have  the  same  evidence  of  a  self  thinking  and  of  body  re- 
sisting our  activity  as  we  have  of  the  existence  of  impres- 
sions. But  suppose  these  convictions  removed,  and  how  do 
we  feel,  and  what  have  we  left  us  ? 

Will  we  be  apt  to  set  a  higher  value  on  life  when  we 
know  it  to  be  a  mere  bundle  of  impressions  with  unsub- 
stantial ideas  growing  out  of  them  ?  Will  we  take  a 
deeper  interest  in  our  neighbors  when  we  have  come  to 
believe  (theoretically,  for  to  believe  this  practically  is  im- 
possible) that  they  too  are  a  mere  congeries  of  appearances? 
Will  we  be  disposed  to  do  more  for  the  world  when  we  re- 
gard it  as  a  set  and  series  of  phantasmagoria  bound  by 
rigid  uniformities  of  likeness,  coexistence,  and  succession  ? 
Will  we  be  more  likely  to  feel  that  life  is  worth  living  for, 
and  that  it  is  our  dut}^  to  work  for  its  good,  when  we  con- 
template it  as  in  fact  a  mere  succession  of  images  which  do 
.  not  reflect  any  reality  ?  Will  not  one  hindrance  to  self-in- 
dulgence be  removed  when  we  are  made  to  acknowledge 
that  sensations  and  pleasures  are  realities,  and  that  there 
are  no  others?  Will  not  one  restraint  on  self-murder, 
which  we  may  be  tempted  to  commit  when  in  trouble,  be 
removed  when  we  are  sure  that  we  are  merely  stopping  a 
flow  of  sensations  ?     Will  the  regret  of  the  learned  miir- 


172^  HUXLEY. 

derer  be  deepened  when  he  is  told  that  he  has  merely  laid 
an  arrest  on  a  few  pnlsations  ?  Will  the  seducer  be  more 
likely  to  be  kept  from  gratifying  his  lust  when  the  highest 
philosophy  teaches  him  that  the  soul  of  his  victim  is  a 
mere  collection  of  nerves  ?  Is  the  youth  who  has  run  in 
debt  less  likely  to  rob  his  master  when  he  is  assured  that 
both  he  and  his  master  are  mere  throbs  in  the  vibrations 
which  constitute  life  ?  Agnosticism  never  can  become  the 
ereed  of  the  great  body  of  any  people  ;  but  should  it  be 
taught  by  the  science  and  philosophy  of  the  day,  I  fear  its 
influence  on  the  youths  who  might  be  led,  not  to  amuse 
themselves  with  it,  but  by  faith  to  receive  it,  would  be 
that  they  would  find  some  of  the  hindrances  to  vice  re- 
moved, and  perhaps  some  of  the  incentives  to  evil  en- 
couraged. 


PART  THIRD, 

A  NOTICE   OF  THE   SCOTTISH   SCHOOL. 
SECTION  X. 


He  was  born  April  26,  1710,  at  Strachan,  in  the  heart 
of  the  Grampians,  in  Aberdeenshire.  He  was  descended 
from  a  succession  of  Presbyterian  ministers,  and  his 
mother  was  Margaret  Gregory,  who  connected  him  with 
the  illustrious  family  of  that  name,  who  did  so  much  for 
the  literature  and  science  of  Scotland.  He  was  for  a  time 
at  the  parish  school  of  Kincardine,  where  his  teacher  fore- 
told "  that  he  would  turn  out  to  be  a  man  of  good  and 
well- wearing  parts."  He  entered  Marischal  College,  Aber- 
deen, when  only  twelve  years  of  age,  and  was  taught  phi- 
losophy by  George  Turnbull,  one  of  the  founders  of  the 
Scottish  School.  He  graduated  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  but 
being  appointed  librarian  to  the  university  he  continued 
his  college  life  till  1736.  In  1737  he  was  ordained  minis- 
ter of  Xew  Machar,  where  he  met  at  first  with  some  oppo- 
sition from  the  people,  who  were  attached  to  the  Evan- 
gelical party  in  the  church ;  but  he  gradually  overcame 
this  by  the  propriety  of  his  conduct,  his  conscientiousness, 

*  I  may  refer  to  the  fuller  account  of  Reid  and  the  other  Scottislj 
metaphysicians  in  my  Scottish  Philosophy, 


174  A  NOTICE   OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 

and  his  kindness.  While  minister  there  he  was  a  hard 
student,  and  engaged,  as  his  follower  and  biographer,  Dii- 
gald  Stewart,  tells  ns,  in  "  a  careful  examination  of  the 
laws  of  external  perception,  and  of  the  other  principles 
which  form  the  groundwork  of  human  knowledge,"  his 
chief  relaxations  being  gardening  and  botany.  At  the 
mature  age  of  thirty-eight  he  published,  in  the  Transac- 
tions of  the  Boyal  Society  of  London,  an  Essay  on  Quan- 
tity, opposing  the  application  of  geometry  to  moral  sub- 
jects. In  1Y52  he  was  elected  professor  in  King's  College, 
Aberdeen,  where  he  was  surrounded  with  an  able  body  of 
colleagues  in  the  two  universities,  and  by  thoughtful  min- 
isters and  professional  men  beyond  the  colleges.  He  vvas 
the  main  instrument  of  forming  the  famous  "  Aberdeen 
Philosophical  Society,"  where  valuable  papers  were  read, 
and  which  called  forth  what  may  be  called  the  Aberdeen 
branch  of  the  Scottish  School  of  Philosophy. 

It  was  the  publication  of  Hume's  treatise  on  Human 
Nature  in  1739,  that  first  directed  him  specially  to  phil- 
osophic research.  In  the  end  of  1763  he  published  his 
most  original  work.  An  Inqidry  into  the  Human  Mind, 
ooi  the  Principles  of  Common  Sense.  About  the  same 
time  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in 
the  University  of  Glasgow,  and  was  there  a  most  success- 
ful and  acceptable  professor,  giving  valuable  instruction  to 
all  his  pupils,  and  giving  an  intellectual,  stimulus  to  many 
men,  such  as  Dugald  Stewart,  who  rose  to  eminence.  In 
1785  he  published  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of 
Man,  and  in  1788  the  Essays  on  the  Active  Potvers,  his 
two  most  elaborate  works.     He  died  October  7,  1796. 

If  he  is  not  the  founder  (this  honor  belongs  to  Francis 
Hutcheson)  he  is  the  fit  representative  of  the  Scottish 
Philosophy.  I^e  is  in  every  respect  a  Scotchman  ;  shrewd, 
cautious,   outwardly   calm,  and  yet  with  a  deep  feeling 


THOMAS  REID.  175 

"witKin  (he  often  shed  tears  when  he  spoke  o£  the  love  of 
Christ  at  a  communion-table,)  and  capable  of  enthusiasm  ; 
not  witty,  but  with  a  quiet  vein  of  humor.  He  has  the 
truly  philosophic  spirit ;  seeking  truth  humbly,  modestly, 
diligently,  piercing  beneath  the  surface  to  gaze  on  the 
true  nature  of  things,  and  not  to  be  caught  by  sophistry 
or  misled  by  plausible  misrepresentations.  He  has  not 
the  mathematical  consecutiveness  of  Descartes,  the  specu- 
lative genius  of  Leibnitz,  the  sagacity  of  Locke,  the  spirit- 
uelle  of  Berkeley,  or  the  detective  skill  of  Hume;  but 
he  has  a  quality  quite  as  valuable  as  any  of  these,  even  in 
philosophy ;  he  has  in  perfection  that  common  sense 
which  he  so  commends,  and  thus  saves  himself  from  the 
extreme  positions  into  which  these  great  men  have  been 
tempted  by  their  soaring  genius  or  inexorable  logic.  "  It 
is,"  says  he,  *' genius,  and  not  the  want  of  it,  that  adul- 
terates philosophy."  He  inquires  carefully  into  the  sub- 
jects he  is  studying ;  and  if  he  does  not  comprehend  them 
thoroughl}^  he  acknowledges  it,  and  what  he  does  see,  he 
sees  clearly  and  describes  honestly.  "  The  labyrinth  may 
be  too  intricate,  and  the  thread  too  fine  to  be  traced 
through  all  its  windings,  but  if  we  stop  when  we  can  trace 
it  no  farther,  and  secure  the  ground  we  have  gained,  there 
is  no  harm  done,  and  a  quicker  eye  may  at  times  trace  it 
farther."  Speculative  youth  are  apt  to  feel  that,  because 
he  is  so  sober  and  makes  so  little  pretension,  he  cannot 
possibly  be  far-seeing  or  profound  ;  but  this  is  at  the  time 
of  life  when  they  have  risen  above  taking  a  mother's  advice, 
and  become  wiser  than  their  father ;  and  after  following 
other  and  more  showy  lights  for  a  time,  they  may  be 
obliged  at  last  to  acknowledge  that  they  have  here  the  light 
of  the  sun,  which  is  better  than  that  of  the  flashing  meteor. 
He  claims  credit  on  two  points  :  one  in  examining  and 
undermining  the  ideal  theory  of  sense-perception  ;    thq 


176  A  NOTICE  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 

other  in  estabHsliing  against  Hume  the  principle  of  com- 
mon sense. 

I.  His  Inquiry  is  occupied  almost  exclusively  with  the 
senses.  It  is  one  of  the  excellences  of  his  philosophy,  as 
compared  with  most  of  those  that  have  gone  before,  that 
(with  Aristotle)  he  so  carefully  inquired  into  these  orig- 
inal inlets  of  knowledge.  He  shows  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  all  that  had  been  done  in  physiology  down  to  his 
time,  and  that  he  had  been  in  the  way  of  making  original 
observations.  He  goes  over  the  senses  one  by  one,  begin- 
ning with  the  simpler — smell  and  taste — and  going  on  to 
the  more  complex — hearing,  touch,  and  sight.  Under 
smell  he  announces  a  number  of  general  principles  appli- 
cable to  all  the  senses,  as  in  regard  to  sensation  considered 
absolutely,  and  the  nature  of  judgment  and  belief.  Under 
hearing  he  speaks  of  natural  language  ;  and  under  touch 
of  natural  signs  and  primary  qualities.  He  dwells  at  great- 
est length  on  sight ;  discussing  such  topics  as  color,  visible 
figure,  extension,  the  parallel  motion  of  the  eyes,  squinting, 
and  Berkeley's  theory  of  vision. 

He  denies,  first,  that  we  perceive  by  means  of  ideas  in 
the  mind,  or  out  of  it,  coming  between  the  mind  and  the 
natural  object  perceived ;  secondly,  that  we  reach  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  external  object  by  means  of  reasoning ;  and 
thirdly,  that  in  order  to  the  conception  of  anything 
it  is  necessary  to  have  some  impression  or  idea  in  our 
mind  which  resembles  it,  particularly  setting  himself 
against  the  doctrine  of  Locke,  that  our  ideas  of  the  pri- 
mary qualities  are  resemblances  of  them.  What  he  ad- 
vances on  these  points  seems  to  me  clear  and  satisfactory. 
He  has  done  special  service  to  philosophy  by  removing 
those  confusing  intermediaries  which  were  called  ideas.  It 
may  be  that  th^ great  body  of  philosophers  had  not  drawn 
out  for  their  own  use  such  a  doctrine  of  ideas  as  Keid  ex' 


THOMAS   EEID.  177 

poses ;  it  may  be,  that  some  of  them,  if  the  question  had 
been  put  to  them,  would  have  denied  that  they  held  any 
such  doctrine  ;  it  may  be,  as  Hamilton  has  tried  to  show, 
that  some  few  held  a  doctrine  of  perception  without  ideas ; 
but  I  believe  Reid  was  right  in  holding  that  mental  phi- 
losophers did  bring  in  an  idea  between  the  mind  perceiving 
and  the  external  object ;  that  some  created  an  image  in  the 
mind  or  in  the  brain  ;  that  some  objectified  the  internal 
thought,  and  confounded  it  with  the  object  perceived  ;  and 
-that  the  greater  number  had  not  clearly  settled  what  they 
meant  by  the  term  they  employed.  The  service  which 
Reid  has  done  to  philosophy  by  banishing  the  intermediar 
ries  between  sense-perception,  and  its  external  object,  say 
the  body,  cannot  be  overestimated.  It  brings  nearer  to  the 
true  doctrine  which  is,  that  we  immediately  perceive  matter 
and  thus  begin  with  a  reality  in  the  self  and  not  self.  He 
has  not  been  so  successful  in  establishing  a  doctrine  of  his 
own  as  in  opposing  the  errors  of  others.  He  maintains  that 
there  is  first  a  sensation  in  the  mind,  and  that  this  sensation 
suggests  a  perception.  The  word  suggestion,  to  denote  the 
rise  of  a  thought  in  the  mind,  was  adopted  by  Eeid  from 
Berkeley,  who  again  took  it  from  Locke.  He  holds  that 
"  there  are  natural  suggestions,  particularly  that  sensa- 
tion suggests  the  notion  of  past  existence,  and  the  belief 
that  what  we  remember  did  exist  in  time  past ;  and  that 
our  sensations  and  thoughts  do  also  suggest  the  notion  of 
a  mind  and  the  belief  of  its  existence  and  of  its  relation 
to  our  thoughts.  By  a  like  natural  principle  it  is  that  a 
beginning  of  existence  or  any  change  in  nature  suggests  to 
us  the  notion  of  a  cause,  and  compels  our  belief  in  its  ex- 
istence. .  .  .  And,  in  like  manner,  certain  sensations 
of  touch,  by  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  suggest  to  us 
extension  and  solidity"  (Collected  Works  by  Hamilton, 
p.  111).     He  adopts  from  Berkeley  a  doctrine  of  natural 


178  A  NOTICE   OF  THE  SCOTTISH   SCHOOL. 

language  and  signs.  There  are  natural  signs  "which, 
though  we  never  had  any  notion  or  conception  of  tlie 
thing  signified :  to  suggest  it,  or  conjure  it  up  as  it  were 
by  a  natural  kind  of  magic  and  at  once  give  us  a  concep- 
tion and  create  a  belief  in  it."  He  calls  "  our  sensations 
«igns  of  external  objects."  What  Reid  represents  as  two 
acts,  the  one  going  before  the  other,  constitute  one  con- 
crete act,  and  can  be  separated  only  by  a  process  of  ab- 
straction. There  is  not  first  a  sensation  of  a  colored  sur- 
face and  then  a  perception  of  it ;  but  we  have  the  two  at 
once.  This  does  away  with  the  necessity  of  signs  and 
suggestions  which  might  be  quite  as  troublesome  as  ideas. 
There  are  both  sensation  and  perception,  but  the  two  con- 
stitute one  concrete  act,  and  they  can  be  separated  only  by 
a  process  of  abstraction.  The  correct  statement  is,  not 
that  the  sensations  "  suggest  to  us  extension,  solidity,  and 
motion,"  but  we  perceive  at  one  and  the  same  time  objects 
at  once  as  extended,  solid,  and  in  motion. 

Hamilton  has  gone  beyond  Reid  and  laid  down  the 
doctrine  of  immediate  perception.  When  he  began  to 
edit  Reid's  Collected  Works  he  thought  that  Reid's  doc- 
trine was  the  same  as  his  own.  But  as  lie  advances  he 
sees  it  is  not  so,  and  he  comes  to  doubt  whether  Reid  did 
not  himself  retain  some  portions  of  the  intermediate  the- 
.ory.  While  Hamilton  has  defended  the  true  doctrine, 
he  has  not  carried  it  out  consistently.  He  makes  our 
knowledge  of  things  relative  to  the  mind,  and  supposes, 
with  Kant,  that  the  mind  adds  subjective  elements  to  the 
primitive  cognitions,  and  thus  makes  it  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish between  what  is  real  and  what  is  not  so  in  our 
perceptions.  He  claims  that  *'  venturing  a  step  beyond 
Reid  no  less  than  Kant  "  {Reid^s  Coll.  Works,  p.  126),  he 
brings  on  our  perception  of  space  both  an  dj)riori  concep- 
tion with  Kant,  and  an  a  jpriori  perception  with  Reid. 


THOMAS   REID.  179 

Tlie  true  account  is  that  our  cognition  of  extension  is  one 
intuitive  perception. 

11.  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  state  and  examine 
Reid's  classification  of  the  faculties,  which  is  of  no  great 
value.  I  have  stated  and  examined  his  view  of  Percep- 
tion. It  remains  only  to  look  at  his  view  of  Judgment : 
"  We  ascribe  to  reason  two  offices  and  two  degrees.  The 
first  is  to  judge  of  things  self-evident,  the  second  to  draw 
conclusions  which  are  not  self-evident  from  those  that  are. 
The  first  of  these  is  the  province,  and  the  sole  province,  of 
common  sense ;  and  therefore  it  coincides  with  reason  in 
its  whole  extent,  and  is  only  another  name  for  one  branch 
or  degree  of  reason  "  (p.  425).  He  divides  the  principles 
of  common  sense  into  two  classes  ;  as  they  are  contingent, 
or  as  they  are  necessary  and  immutable,  whose  contrary 
is  impossible. 

I  doubt  whether  the  distinction  he  draws  between  con- 
tingent and  necessary  truths  is  so  profound  as  he  would 
represent  it.  The  test  of  the  latter  is  that  their  contrary 
is  impossible.  But  is  not  this  true  of  all  the  principles  of 
common  sense  ?  Some  of  the  principles  enumerated  under 
the  head  of  contingent  truths  have  no  claim  to  be  regarded 
as  original  laws  of  reason,  such  as  the  signification  of  the 
sound  of  the  voice,  and  the  gestures  of  the  body,  the 
belief  in  human  testimony  and  the  uniformity  of  nature. 
They  seem  rather  to  be  the  result  of  a  gathered  experience 
to  which  we  ma}^  be  impelled  by  natural  inclination.  If 
these  laws  are  principles  of  reason  there  could  be  no  ex- 
ceptions ;  but  every  one  knows  that  the  sound  of  the  voice 
and  the  expression  of  the  countenance  and  human  testi- 
mony may  deceive,  and  it  is  conceivable  that  the  present 
order  of  things  may  be  changed.  It  is  necessary  to  have  a 
more  searching  exposition  of  primary  principles  than  Reid 
has  furnished. 


180  A  NOTICE  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 

Reid  evidently  took  the  phrase  "common  sense"  from 
Shaftesbury's  Characteristics.  The  phrase  was  used  by 
Locke,  Shaftesbury,  and  Hutcheson,  who  all  brought  in  an 
internal  as  well  as  a  bodily  sense,  the  two  latter  calling  in 
a  moral  sense  and  a  sense  of  beaut}",  and  employing  the 
phrase  to  intimate  that  there  are  other  sources  of  ideas  be- 
sides sensation,  or  sensation  and  reflection.  The  funda- 
mental objection  to  the  term  is  that  it  is  ambiguous.  Aris- 
totle denoted  by  Koivrj  diadrjoL^;  the  knowledge  imparted 
by  the  senses  in  common.  This  long  continued  to  be  one 
of  the  meanings  of  the  phrase,  but  by  Reid's  time  this  use 
had  ceased  in  the  English  tongue.  In  the  use  which  he 
makes  of  it  there  is  an  unfair  ambiguity.  It  denotes  the 
combination  of  qualities  which  constitutes  good  sense,  be- 
ing, according  to  an  old  saying,  the  most  uncommon  of  all 
the  senses.  This  valuable  property  is  not  possessed  by  all 
men,  and  is  the  result  of  a  number  of  gifts  and  attain- 
ments, such  as  an  originally  sound  judgment  and  a  care- 
ful observation  of  the  ways  of  mankind.  In  this  sense 
common  sense  is  not  entitled  to  be  appealed  to  as  the 
arbiter  in  j^hilosophy,  though  it  may  keep  us  from  much 
error.  But  the  phrase  has  another  and  a  different  signifi- 
cation in  philosophical  works,  including  Reid's.  It  denotes 
the  aggregate  of  original  principles  planted  in  the  minds 
of  all.  It  is  only  in  this  latter  senes  that  it  can  be. legiti- 
mately employed  in  overthrowing  scepticism  or  for  any 
philosophic  purpose.  Reid  rather  dexterously  takes  ad- 
vantage of  both  these  meanings.  He  would  show  that 
the  views  he  opposes,  though  supported  by  men  of  high 
intellectual  powers;  have  the  good  sense  of  mankind  against 
them. 

Hamilton  has  succeeded,  in  his  famous  Kote  A,  appended 
to  his  edition  <^f  Reid,  in  showing  that  the  argument  as 
employed  by  Reid  is  valid^  in  itself  and  legitimately  used 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  THE   SCOTTISH   SCHOOL.    181 

against  scepticism.  The  appeal  is  to  principles  in  our 
constitution  which  all  are  obliged  to  admit  and  act  upon. 
Eut  the  account  after  all  is  partial.  It  brings  before  us 
the  mark  of  universal  consent,  but  does  not  bring  into 
prominence  the  self -evidence  and  necessity — it  shows  some 
of  the  radicles  but  overlooks  the  main,  the  tap-root.  It 
needs  to  be  made  more  comprehensive. 

But  meanwhile  let  us  observe  to  what  point  in  the  on- 
ward progress  the  Scottish  school  has  brought  us. 


SECTION  XI. 

CHARACTERISTICS    OF    THE    SCOTTISH    SCHOOL. 

I.  It  jproceeds  throughout  hy  observation.  It  has  all 
along  professed  a  profound  reverence  for  Bacon,  and  in  its 
earliest  works  it  attempted  to  do  for  metaphysics  what 
I^ewton  had  done  for  physics.  It  begins  with  facts  and 
ends  with  facts.  Between,  it  has  analyses,  generalizations, 
and  reasonings ;  but  all  upon  the  actual  operations  of  the 
mind.  Its  laws  are  suggested  by  facts  and  are  verified  by 
facts.  It  sets  out,  as  Bacon  recommends,  with  the  neces- 
sary "rejections  and  exclusions,"  with  what  Whewell  calls 
the  "decomposition  of  facts,"  but  all  to  get. at  the  exact 
facts  it  means  to  examine.  Its  generalizations  are  formed 
by  observing  the  points  in  which  the  operations  of  the  mind 
agree,  and  it  proceeds  gradually, — gradatim,  as  Bacon  ex- 
presses it, — rising  from  particulars  to  generals,  and  from 
lower  to  higher  laws.  It  is  afraid  of  rapid  and  high  specu- 
lation, lest  it  carry  us  like  a  balloon,  not  into  the  heavens, 
but  a  cloud,  where  it  will  explode  sooner  or  later.  It  is 
suspicious  of  long  and  complicated  ratiocinations  like  those 
of  Spinoza  and  Hegel,  for  it  is  sure — such  is  human  falli- 
bility^tliat  there  will  lurk  in  them  some  error  or  defect 


182  A  NOTICE  OF  THE   SCOTTISH   SCHOOL. 

ill  the  premise,  or  60ine  oversiglit  or  weak  link  in  the  pro- 
cess, weakening  the  whole  chain.  Thomas  Reid  was  not 
sure  whether  Samuel  Clarke's  demonstration  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God  was  more  distinguished  for  ingenuity  than 
gublimitj. 

II.  It  obsei'ves  the  operations  of  the  ^iuind  hy  the  inner 
sense — that  is,  consciousness.  In  this  philosophy  conscious- 
ness, the  perception  of  self  in  its  various  states,  comes  into 
greater  prominence  than  it  had  ever  done  before.  Bacon 
did  not  appreciate  its  importance ;  he  recommended  in  the 
study  of  the  human  mind  the  gathering  of  instances,  to  be 
arranged  in  tables,  of  memory,  judgment,  and  the  like. 
Descartes  appealed  to  consciousness,  but  only  to  get  a  prin- 
ciple such  as  co(/ito,  to  be  used  in  deduction,  ergo  sum  ^  in 
which  Sinn  there  is  an  idea  of  an  infinite,  a  perfect.  Locke 
was  ever  appealing  to  internal  observation,  but  it  was  to 
support  a  preconceived  theory  that  all  our  ideas  are  derived 
from  sensation  and  reflection.  Turnbull  and  Ilutcheson 
and  Keid  were  the  first  to  avow  and  declare  that  the  laws 
of  the  human  mind  were  to  be  discovered  only  by  internal 
observation,  and  that  mental  philosophy  consisted  solely  in 
the  construction  of  these.  They  held  that  consciousness, 
the  internal  sense,  was  as  much  to  be  trusted  as  the  exter- 
nal senses ;  and  that  as  we  can  form  a  natural  philosophy 
out  of  the  facts  furnished  by  the  one,  we  can  construct  a 
mental  philosophy  by  the  facts  furnished  by  the  other. 
They  held  resolutely  that  the  eye  cannot  see  our  thoughts 
and  feelings  even  when  aided  by  the  microscope  or  tele- 
scope. They  were  sure  that  no  man  ever  grasped  an  idea 
by  his  musculkr  power,  tasted  the  beauty  of  a  rose  or  lily, 
smelt  an  emotion,  or  heard  the  writhings  of  the  conviction 
of  conscience.  But  they  thought  that  the  mind  could  ob- 
serve the  world  within  by  consciousness  more  directly  and 
quite  as  accurately  as  it  could  observe  the  world  without 


CHAEACTEEISTICS    OF  THE  SCOTTISH   SCHOOL.    183 

by  sight,  touch,  and  the  other  senses,  and  could  in  the  one 
case  as  in  the  other  make  a  scientific  arrangement  of  its 
observations  and  construct  a  science. 

III.  By  observation  jprincijples  are  discovered  vjhich  are 
above  6hs6rvation^  universal  and  eternal.  All  the  genuine 
masters  and  followers  proceed  on  this  principle,  and  apply 
it  more  or  less  successfully.  I  am  not  sure  that  they  have 
expressly  avowed  it  and  explicitly  stated  it.  I  am  responsi- 
ble for  the  form  wliich  is  given  it  at  the  head  of  this  para- 
graph. JSTo  man  can  understand  or  appreciate  or  do  justice 
to  the  philosophy  of  Scotland  who  does  not  notice  it  as 
running  through  and  through  their  whole  investigations 
and  conclusions.  It  was  in  this  way  that  Raid  opposed 
Hume.  It  was  in  this  way  that  Dugald  Stewart,  and  in- 
deed the  whole  school,  sought  to  lay  a  foundation  on 
which  all  truth  might  be  built.  They  were  fond  of  repre- 
senting the  principles  as  fundamental,  and  they  guarded 
against  all  erroneous,  against  all  extravagant  and  defective 
statements  and  applications  of  them,  by  insisting  that  they 
be  shown  to  be  in  the  constitution  of  the  mind,  and  that 
their  nature  be  ascertained  before  they  are  employed  in 
speculation  of  any  kind.  By  insisting  on  this  restriction, 
their  mode  of  procedure  has  been  described  as  timid,  and 
their  results  as  mean  and  poor,  by  those  speculators  who 
assume  a  principle  without  a  previous  induction,  and 
mount  up  with  it,  wishing  to  reach  the  sky,  but  stayed  in 
the  clouds.  By  thus  holding  that  there  are  truths  above 
and  prior  to  our  observation  of  them,  they  claim  and  have 
a  place  in  the  brotherhood  of  our  higher  philosophers,  such 
as  Plato  and  Aristotle  in  ancient  times,  Descartes,  Leib- 
nitz, and  Kant  in  modern  times. 

They  present  these  principles  in  the  mind  under  various 
aspects  and  in  different  names.  Reid  called  them  princi- 
ples of  common  sense  in  the  mind  itself,  and  connnon  to  all 


184  A  NOTICE   OF  THE  SCOTTISH   SCHOOL. 

men.  Hamilton  defended  the  use  of  the  phrase  common 
sense.  I  am  not  sure  it  is  the  best  one,  as  it  inchides  two 
meanings :  one,  good  sense,  of  mightj  use  in  the  practical 
affairs  of  life  ;  and  the  other,  first  principles  in  the  minds 
of  all  men,  in  which  latter  sense  alone  it  can  be  legiti- 
mately employed  in  philosophy.  He  also  calls  them,  hap- 
pily, reason  in  the  first  degree,  which  discerns  truth  at 
once,  as  distinguished  from  reason  in  the  second  degree, 
which  discovers  truth  by  arguing.  Stewart  represented 
them  as  "  fundamental  laws  of  human  thought  and  be- 
lief," and  is  commended  for  this  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh, 
who  is  so  far  a  member  of  the  school.  Thomas  Brown 
represented  them  as  intuitions,  a  phrase  I  am  fond  of,  as 
it  presents  the  mind  as  looking  into  the  nature  of  things. 
Perhaps  the  phrase  "  intuitive  reason,"  used  by  Milton 
when  he  talks  of  "  reason  intuitive  and  discursive,"  might 
be  as  good  a  phrase  as  any  by  which  to  designate  these 
primary  principles.  Hamilton,  who  sought  to  add  the 
philosophy  of  Ivant  to  that  of  Reid,  often  without  his 
being  able  to  make  them  cohere,  sometimes  uses  the 
Scotch  phrases,  and  at  other  times  the  favorite  Kantian 
designation,  d  jjrio?'i.  I  remember  how  Dr.  Chalmers, 
w^ho  was  truly  of  the  Scottish  school,  was  delighted  in 
his  advanced  years,  on  becoming  acquainted  with  the  Ger- 
man philosophy  through  Morell's  History  of  Plulosojplmj^ 
to  find  that  there  was  a  wonderful  correspondence  be- 
tween the  d  priori  principles  of  Kant  and  the  funda- 
mental laws  of  Stewart. 

I  may  be  allowed  to  add,  that  having  before  me  the 
views  and  the  -nomenclature  of  all  who  hold  by  these  pri- 
mary principles,  I  have  ventured  to  specify  their  charac- 
teristics, and  this  in  the  proper  order : 

First^  they  look  at  things  external  and  internal.  They 
are  not  forms'  or  laws  in  the  mind  apart  from  things. 


CHARACTEKISTICS   OF  THE   SCOTTISH   SCHOOL.    185 

They  are  intuitions  of  things.  Under  this  view  they  are 
Self-evident,  which  is  their  first  mark.  The  truth  is  per- 
ceived at  once  by  looking  at  things.  I  perceive  self 
within  and  body  without  by  barely  looking  at  them.  I 
discover  -that  two  straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a  space, 
that  benevolence  is  good,  that  cruelty  is  evil,  by  simply 
contemplating  the  things.  Secondly^  they  are  ]S"ecessary.' 
This  I  hold  with  Aristotle,  Leibnitz,  Kant,  and  most  pro- 
found  thinkers.  Being  self-evident,  we  must  hold  them, 
and  cannot  be  made  to  think  or  believe  otherwise. 
Thirdly^  they  are  Univeksal,  being  entertained  by  all 
men. 

But  it  is  asked.  How  do  you  reconcile  your  one  element 
with  the  other — your  observation  with  your  truth  anterior 
to  observation  ?  I  do  hold  Avith  the  whole  genuine  Scot- 
tish school,  that  there  are  principles  in  the  mind  called 
common  sense,  primary  reason,  intuition,  prior  to  and  in- 
dependent of  our  observation  of  them.  But  I  also  hold, 
and  this  in  perfect  consistency,  that  it  is  by  observation  we 
discover  them,  that  they  exist,  and  what  they  are.  I  have 
found  it  difiicult  to  make  some  people  understand  and  fall 
in  with  this  distinction.  Historians  and  critics  of  philoso- 
phy are  apt  to  divide  all  philosophies  into  two  grand 
schools,  the  a  'priori  and  a  jposteriori^  or  in  other  words, 
the  rational  and  the  experiential.  They  are  utterly  averse 
to  call  in  a  third  school,  which  would  disturb  all  their 
classifications,  and  thus  trouble  them,  and  require  the  au- 
thors among  them,  especially  the  followers  of  Kant  or 
Cousin,  to  rewrite  all  they  have  written.  They  do  not 
know  very  well  what  to  make  of  the  Scottish  school,  and 
I  may  add  of  the  great  body  of  American  thinkers, 
who  will  not  just  fall  into  either  one  or  other  of  their 
grand  trunk-divisions.  In  particular,  when  they  conde- 
scend to  notice  the  author  of  this  paper  they  feel  as  if 


186  A  NOTICE   OF   THE  SCOTTISH   SCHOOL. 

thej  do  not  know  what  to  make  of  liim.  "  Are  you," 
they  ask,  "  of  the  a  jposteriori  or  empirical  school  ?  You 
seem  as  if  you  are  so,  you  are  so  constantly  appealing  to 
facts  and  experience.  If  so,  you  have  no  right  to  appeal 
to  or  call  in  a  jpriori  principles,  which  can  never  be  es- 
tablished by  a  limited  observation.  But  you  are  inconsist- 
ently ever  bringing  in  necessary  and  universal  principles, 
such  as  those  of  cause  and  effect,  and  moral  good."  Or 
they  attack  me  at  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma.  "  You 
hold  rather  by  a  j[>riori  principles  ;  you  are  ever  falling 
back  on  principles,  self-evident,  necessary,  and  universal, 
on  personality,  on  identity,  on  substance  and  quality,  cau- 
sation, on  the  good  and  the  infinite."  I  have  sometimes 
felt  as  if  I  were  placed  between  two  contending  armies, 
exposed  to  the  fire  of  both.  Yet  I  believe  I  am  able  to 
keep  and  defend  my  position.  Now  I  direct  a  shot  at  the 
one  side,  say  at  John  S.  Mill,  and  at  other  times  a  shot 
at  the  other  side,  say  at  Kant — not  venturing  to  attack 
Hegel,  who  is  in  a  region  which  my  weapons  can  never 
reach.  They  pay  little  attention  to  me,  being  so  en- 
grossed with  fighting  each  other.  But  I  do  cherish  the 
hope  that  when  each  of  the  sides  finds  it  impossible  to  ex- 
tinguish the  other  they  may  become  weary  of  the  fight, 
look  for  the  juste  milieu,  and  turn  a  favorable  look 
toward  the  independent  place  which  the  Scotch  and  the 
great  body  of  the  Americans  who  think  on  these  subjects 
are  occupying.  We  invite  you  to  throw  down  your  arms, 
and  come  up  to  the  peaceful  height  which  we  occupy. 
Hither  you  may  bring  all  the  wealth  you  have  laid  up  in 
your  separate'  positions,  and  here  it  will  be  safe.  You 
have  here  primitive  rocks  strong  and  deep  as  the  granite 
on  which  to  rest  it,  and  here  you  may  add  to  it  riches 
gathered  from  as  wide  regions  as  your  ken  can  reach,  and 
establish  a  city  which  can  never  be  moved  or  shaken. 


Ill 
A  CRITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 


In  this  work,  wMcli  is  a  criticism  of  Kant's  Philosophy, 
there  is  no  need  of  giving  a  detailed  account  of  his  hfe. 
The  biographies  of  him  are  now  nmnerous  and  accessible.' 

He  was  bom  at  Konigsberg,  in  Eastern  Prussia,  toward 
the  Polish  border,  April  22,  1Y24.  His  father,  a  saddler, 
was  of  Scotch  descent  from  some  emigrant,  who  had  gone 
over  to  Memel,  probably  from  Forfarshire,  on  the  east 
coast  of  Scotland,  where  I  have  noticed  the  name  Cant 
(changed  in  German  into  Kant),  often  occurring  on  tomb- 
stones in  the  parish  church-yards,  and  in  old  records  some 
of  which  show  that  there  were  Cants  engaged  in  the  work- 
ing of  leather.  His  mother,  whom  he  unfortunately  lost 
at  the  age  of  thirteen,  was  a  woman  of  fervent  piety,  and 
the  family  attended  a  church  where  the  evangelical  faith 
was  preached.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  entered  the  uni- 
versity of  his  native  town,  and  for  six  years  he  was  em- 
ployed in  the  Faculty  of  Arts  and  Sciences  in  going  over 
the  branches  belonging  to  the  Department  of  Philosophy. 
His  father  having  died  in  1746  lie  was  thrown  on  his  own 
resources,  and  had  a  hard  enough  struggle.  For  a  time 
he  was  tutor  in  a  private  family  and  from  1755  to  1770  he 
was  Privat-Docent  in  the  University  of  Konigsberg,  where 
he  taught  Logic,  Ethics,  and  Physical  Geography,  in  the 
last  of  which  he  always  felt  a  special  interest.  He  early 
showed  a  taste  and  talent  for  mathematics  and  physics,  but 

*  We  have  a  clear  account  of  Kant's  simple  and  retired  Life  in  Wal- 
lace's "  Kant''  in  Philosophic  Classics  ;  a  graphic  account  in  Sterling's 
lext-Booh  to  Kant ;  and  a  full  account  in  Stuckenberg's  Life  of  Jmr 
manuel  Kant. 


190  BIOOEAPHICAL  NOTE. 

in  the  end  philosopliy  became  Ms  favorite  study.  In  tlie 
years  from  1Y60-65  he  became  acquainted  with  the  phi- 
losophy of  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson,  and  Hume,  and  this 
gave  a  new  turn  to  his  thoughts. 

From  1762  to  1765  he  published  a  number  of  import- 
ant works : — The  false  subtlety  of  the  Four  Syllogistic 
Figures  y  An  attempt  to  introduce  into  Philosophy  the 
Conception  of  Negative  Quantities  ;  Only  Possible  Argic- 
vnent  for  demonstrating  God^s  Excellence;  Observations 
on  the  Feeling  of  the  Beautiful  and  Sublime  /  and  In- 
quiry into  the  Clearness  of  the  Principles  of  Natural 
Theology  and  Morals.  During  this  period  he  anticipated 
Laplace  in  his  famous  theory  of  the  formation  of  worlds 
from  star-dust. 

In  1770  he  was  made  full  professor,  with  a  salary  in  the 
end  of  about  a  hundred  pounds  sterling,  and  henceforth  he 
devoted  himseK  to  the  teaching  of  logic  and  metaphysics, 
and  the  construction  of  his  philosophic  system.  His  in- 
troductory lecture  was  on  The  Form  and  Principles  of 
tJie  Sense  World,  and  the  World  Intellectual.  In  1781, 
at  the  mature  age  of  57,  he  published  his  great  work,  Tlie 
Kritik  of  Pure  Reason^  in  which  his  avowed  aim  was  a 
search  for  the  proper  method  of  metaphysics.  The  book 
laid  hold  at  once  on  certain  thinking  minds,  and  has  ever 
since  had  a  powerful  influence  on  thought.  A  second  edi- 
tion was  demanded  in  1787,  and  in  it  he  labored  particu- 
larly in  a  new  Preface  to  deliver  his  system  from  misap- 
prehensions and  answer  objections. 

In  1785,  he  published  The  Foundation  for  the  MetOr 
physic  of  Ethics  /  and  The  Metaphysical  Rudiments  of 
Natural  Philosophy ;  in  1788,  The  Kritijc  of  the  Practical 
Reason,  and  in  1790  The  Kritik  of  the  Judgment,  in  his 
old  age,  Religion  within  the  Bo%mdaries  of  Pure  Reason. 

His  biographers  all  describe  his  pe«rson  and  his  simple 


BIOGEAPHICAL  N'OTE.  191 

bachelor  habits.  He  was  scarcely  five  feet  in  height,  and, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  had  a  very  small  brain.  Every 
morning  about  five  minutes  before  five  his  servant  Lampe, 
an  old  soldier,  entered  his  confined  and  darkened  bedroom 
with  the'  cry,  "  It  is  time,"  and  his  master  rose  immediately 
and  took  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  Till  seven 
he  prepared  his  lecture  and  delivered  it  between  seven  and 
nine.  For  the  rest  of  the  forenoon  he  gave  himself  to  his 
literary  work,  in  w^hich  he  wrote  laboriously,  and  read  the 
works  he  could  procure  in  that  remote  city.  At  a  quarter 
to  one,  he  called  out,  "  It  is  three  quarters,"  and  sat  down 
to  a  simple  meal  with  a  little  liquor,  and  always  with  a 
few,  from  two  to  six,  invited  guests.  The  dinner,  with 
the  conversation,  which  ranged  over  almost  every  subject 
except  metaphysics,  lasted  till  four,  when  he  went  out  to 
his  constitutional  walk,  still  shown  to  all  who  visit  Konigs- 
berg.  In  this  walk  he-  commonly  distributed  alms  to  some 
beggars  who  waited  for  him.  Returning  to  his  room,  he 
revolved  his  philosophy  in  his  mind  till  about  half-past 
nine,  when  he  retired  to  his  couch,  covering  his  head  witli 
the  blankets,  and  taking  pains  to  breathe  only  through  his 
nose,  which  he  thought  prolonged  life. 

In  all  his  writings  he  takes  an  attitude  of  profound  rev- 
erence toward  religion  and  its  fundamental  truths,  of  God, 
good,  and  immortality.  After  the  spirit  of  his  age,  he 
was  a  rationalist,  subjecting  all  the  doctrines  of  religion  to 
the  dictates  of  reason.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  gone  to 
the  worship  of  God  in  any  church.  He  was  annoyed  in 
his  declining  life  by  Fichte,  who  had  been  at  one  time  his 
pupil,  carrying  out  the  principles  which  his  master  had 
laid  down  to  prove  idealism.  As  his  years  advanced  his 
faculties  began  to  decay,  and  he  scarcely  understood  the 
system  which  he  had  so  carefully  elaborated.  He  died 
February  12,  1804. 


A  CRITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL 
PHILOSOPHY.' 


Locke  was  the  most  influential  metaphysician  of  last  can- 
tm*y ;  Kant  is  the  most  influential  metaphysician  of  this. 

Locke's  great  work,  "  An  Essay  on  Human  Understand- 
ing," published  in  1690,  came  into  notice  immediately. 
The  age  was  ripe  for  it.  Younger  men,  rejoicing  in  the 
advance  of  physical  science,  were  becoming  wearied  of  the 
logical  forms  of  the  schoolmen  which  had  kept  their  hold 
till  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  of  the  abstract 
metaphysical  discussions  which  still  prevailed  in  the  seven- 
teenth century.  Locke  met  the  want  of  his  age.  His  fresh  ob- 
servational spirit,  his  shrewdness  and  sagacity,  his  independ- 
ence, and  his  very  phraseology,  which  carefully  avoided  all 

^  I  had  an  article  in  the  Princeton  Review  Nov.  1878,  entitled  A  Criti- 
cism of  the  Critical  Philosophy.  Prof.  Sidgwick  has  stolen  my  brand 
by  giving  the  same  title  to  his  very  acute  articles  in  Mind,  beginning 
1883.  I  am  quite  willing  that  he  should  use  the  title,  and  I  refer  to 
his  employment  of  it  simply  in  order  to  claim  that  I  have  a  right  to 
my  own  property  which  I  acquired  by  a  prior  possession.  Kant  seems 
to  me  to  have  reached  the  climax  of  his  influence  at  his  centenary  in 
1881.  These  papers  of  Dr.  Sidgwick's  are  an  indication  that  Kant 
will  now  have  to  undergo  a  searching  criticism,  such  as  Locke  was 
subjected  to,  at  the  end  of  last  century  and  the  beginning  of  this.  It  is 
clear  that  Dr.  Stirling  is  about  to  start  a  rebellion  against  Kant  in 
favor  of  realism.  I  may  be  allowed  to  express  a  hope  that  Dr.  Sidg- 
wick and  his  friend  Mr.  Balfour  having  filled  the  air  with  doubts 
and  difficulties,  will  now  show  as  much  acuteness  in  defending  truth 
as  they  have  done  in  opposing  error.  Unless  they  do  so  the  tendency 
of  their  philosophy,  following  the  spirit  of  the  times,  will  be  toward 
an  agnosticism  which  they  do  not  mean  to  support. 


194    A    CKITICISM   OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

hack  and  technical  phrases,  recommended  him  to  the  rising 
generation.  He  called  attention  to  internal  facts,  even  as 
Bacon  and  ^N^ewton  had  to  external ;  and  if  he  did  not 
himself  notice  and  unfold  all  the  dehcate  operations  of  our 
wondrous  nature,  he  showed  men  where  to  iind  them.  But 
philosophy,  like  faith — as  the  great  Teacher  said,  like  phys- 
ical science — as  Bacon  showed,  is  to  be  tried  by  (not  valued 
for)  its  fruits.  The  influence  exerted  by  him  has  been  and 
is  of  a  healthy  character.  But  there  were  serious  over- 
sights and  even  fatal  errors  in  his  principles;  and  these 
came  out  to  view  in  the  systems  winch  claimed  to  proceed 
from  him — in  the  sensationalism  of  Condillac,  the  idealism 
of  Berkeley,  and  the  scepticism  of  Hume. 

By  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  thought- 
ful minds  began  to  see  the  need  of  a  reaction  against  the 
extreme  experientialism  which  had  culminated  in  the  Scot- 
tish sceptic ;  and  there  appeared  two  great  defenders  of 
fundamental  truth — Beid  in  Scotland  (1764)  reaching  in 
his  influence  over  his  own  country,  over  France,  and  over 
the  United  States ;  and  Kant  in  Germany  (1781)  laying 
firm  hold  of  his  own  land,  and  then  passing  over  into 
France,  Britain,  and  America,  and  latterly  penetrating  into 
Scandinavia,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Spain.  Kant's  power,  like 
Locke's,  has  been  on  the  whole  for  good.  He  has  estab- 
lished fundamental  mental  and  moral  principles,  which  are 
seen  to  be  fixed  forever.  He  has  taken  us  up  into  a  region 
of  grand  ideals,  where  poetry,  led  by  Schiller  and  Goethe, 
has  revelled  ever  since.  But  there,  were  mistakes  in  the 
philosophy  of  Kant  as  well  as  in  that  of  Locke.  These 
have  come  out  like  the  dark  shadow  of  an  eclipse  in  the 
ideahsm  of  Fichte,  the  speculative  web  woven  by  Hegel, 
and  in  the  relativity  and  nescience  theories  elaborated  by 
Hamilton  and  ^plied  by  Herbert  Spencer.  Our  errors  as 
well  as  our  sins  will  find  us  out.     Providence  allows  specu- 


LOCKE  AiN-D  KANT.  195 

lative  mistakes  to  go  on  to  a  reductio  ad  dbsurdicw^  and 
the  exposure  corrects  them.  There  is  need  of  a  rebellion 
against  Kant's  despotic  authority  ;  or  rather  of  a  candid  and 
careful  examination  of  his  peculiar  tenets,  with  the  view 
of  retaining  what  is  true  and  expelling  what  is  false.  This 
is  the  more  needed,  as  all  the  agnostics  and  the  materiahstic 
psychologists  when  pushed  fall  back  on  Kant.  Prof.  Ma- 
haffy  acknowledges,^  ''Of  late  the  Darwinists,  the  great 
apostles  of  positivism,  and  the  deadly  enemies  of  metaphys- 
ics, have  declared  that  he  alone  of  the  philosophers  is 
worthy  of  study,  and  to  him  alone  was  vouchsafed  a  fore- 
ghmpse  of  true  science."  I  believe  that  we  can  not  meet 
the  prevailing  doctrine  of  agnostics  till  we  expel  Kant's 
nescient  theory  of  knowledge,  and  that  it  is  as  necessary  in 
this  century  to  be  rid  of  the  Forms  of  Kant  as  it  was  in 
the  last  of  the  Ideas  of  Locke,  both  being  officious  inter- 
meddlers,  coming  between  us  and  things. 

I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  do  not  mean  to  dispar- 
age the  great  German  metaphysician.  I  place  him  on  the 
same  high  level  as  Plato  and  Aristotle  in  ancient  times,  and 
as  Bacon  and  Descartes,  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  Peid  and 
Hamilton  in  modern  times.    His  logical  power  of  ordination 


'  I  may  mention  that  in  an  article  in  the  Princeton  Review  for  Janu- 
ary, 1878,  I  ventured  on  a  short  criticism  of  Kant.  It  was  meant  to 
be  a  challenge.  It  called  forth  an  able  champion  in  Prof.  Mahaffy, 
who  wrote  a  criticism  in  the  same  Review  for  July,  1878,  to  which  I 
replied  in  an  article  for  November,  1878,  referred  to  in  last  note.  I 
am  not  to  carry  on  the  controversy  in  this  paper,  but  I  may  occasion- 
ally use  the  remarks  I  then  made.  Dr.  Mahaffy  has  studied  Kant  pro- 
foundly, and  has  written  valuable  fragmentary  volumes  which  I  hope 
he  may  complete,  and  thus  give  us  fully  his  view  of  the  Critical 
Philosophy.  The  University  of  Dublin,  of  which  he  is  so  distin- 
guished a  member,  having  for  nearly  a  century  and  a  half  followed 
Locke,  seems  in  this  last  age  to  have  gone  over  to  Locke's  great  rival, 
Immanuel  Kant. 


196    A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CEITTCAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  division  is  not  surpassed  bj  that  of  Saint  Thomas,  the 
AngeHcal  Doctor,  or  the  greatest  of  the  schoolmen.  He 
did  immeasurable  good  by  comiteracting  the  sensationalism 
which  was  coming  in  like  a  flood  in  France  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Condillac,  of  Yoltaire,  and  the  encyclopedists^ 
He  accomplished  this  in  the  right  manner  (so  far)  by  show- 
ing that  there  are  other  and  deeper  principles  in  the  mind 
than  sensations  and  transformed  sensations.  He,  did  a  like 
service  to  philosophy  by  resisting  the  undermining  process 
of  Hume,  who  proposed  to  carry  out  to  its  legitimate  con- 
sequences the  experimental  method  of  Locke,  and  landed 
in  scepticism.  He  effected  this  by  showing  that  there  are 
in  the  mind  profound  laws,  or  forms,  which  are  prior  to 
experience  and  independent  of  it.  He  carries  out  his  prin- 
ciples in  a  proper  way  and  proposes  to  give  us  an  inventory 
of  what  is  a  priori  in  the  mind :  "  For  this  science  (of 
metaphysics)  is  nothing  more  than  an  inventory  of  all  that 
is  given  by  pure  reason,  systematically  arranged"  (First 
Preface).'  These  dicta  of  reason  had  been  appealed  to 
constantly  by  the  school  of  dogmatists,  but  there  had  been 
no  careful  inquiry  into  their  nature,  and  their  mode  of 
operation.  Kant  did  great  good  by  attempting  an  arrange- 
ment of  them — though  I  believe  the  system  which  he  con- 
structed was  far  from  being  successful.  He  introduced 
clearness  and  definiteness  into  metaphysics  by  drawing  the 
famous  distinction — of  which  there  had  been  previously 
only  vague  anticipations — between  analytic  and  synthetic 
judgments,  the  foi-mer  simply  evolving  in  the  proposition 
what  is  involved  in  the  subject,  as  when  we  say  that  "  an 
island  is  surrounded  with  water,"  and  the  latter  involving 
something  more,  as  when  we  say,  "  Sicily  is  an  island  in  the 


'  Except  when^tated  otherwise  1  use  Meiklejohn's  Translation  in 
Bohn's  Library. 


EXCELLENCES   OF  KANT.  197 

Mediterranean."  Farther  on  I  may  have  something  to  say- 
about  these  synthetic  judgments ;  but  I  think  he  is  right  in 
maintaining  that  the  problem  of  the  possibihty  and  exist- 
ence of  metaphysics  depends  on  the  circumstance  that  there 
is  in  the  mind  a  capacity  of  pronouncing  judgments  em- 
bracing more  than  is  in  the  subject,  and  that  there  are  such 
judgments  d  priori,  as  that  every  effect  has  a  cause.  His 
classiiication  in  the  categories  of  the  relations  which  the 
mind  can  discover  is  taken  largely  from  Aristotle  and  the 
scholastic  logicians,  and  contains  a  considerable  amount  of 
truth,  and  should  be  carefully  weighed  by  all  who  would 
construct  a  logic. 

He  has  laid  a  deep  and  immovable  foundation  for  ethics 
in  the  Practical  Reason,  and  his  pln-ase,  "  the  Categorical 
Imperative,"  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  most 
expressive  ever  employed  to  designate  the  office  of  the  con- 
science. We  should  also  be  grateful  to  him  for  his  defence 
of  the  freedom  of  the  will.  These  are  only  the  chief  of 
the  high  excellences  which  I  find  in  the  Kantian  philos- 
ophy which  sets  before  youth  a  high  ideal,  intellectual  and 
moral.  The  grand  principles  which  he  has  expounded  and 
defended  must  have  a  place  (it  may  be  a  somewhat  differ- 
ent place  from  that  which  he  has  allotted  to  them)  in  every 
system  of  high  philosophy. 

But,  while  he  has  thus  been  powerfully  promoting  the 
cause  of  truth,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  he  has  given  the 
correct  account  of  fundamental  principles.  He  was  more 
distinguished  as  a  logical  thinker  and  systematizer  than  a 
careful  observer  of  what  actually  passes  in  the  mind.  His 
system,  as  a  whole,  seems  to  me  not  to  be  a  natural  one — 
that  is,  according  to  nature — but  an  artificial  one,  con- 
structed by  a  powerful  intellect. .  He  has  shown  amazing 
dexterity  and  skill  in  forming  his  system,  in  supporting  it 
by  buttresses  where  it  is  weak,  and  defending  it  against 


198    A  CKITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

attacks.  He  lias  certainly  raised  a  massive  structure,  with 
imposing  bulwarks ;  but,  in  these  times,  people  trust  more 
in  earthworks  than  in  stone  castles,  which  are  exposed  to 
attack  from  their  height ;  and  I  beheve  the  time  is  at  hand 
when  we  shall  have  a  philosophy  of  a  lowlier  but  surer 
kind,  based  on  the  facts  of  our  mental  natm'e,  carefully 
observed. 

In  the  examination  which  I  am  to  undertake  I  am  not  to 
proceed  on  any  disputed  points  in  Kant's  wi'itings.  I  look 
only  to  the  broad  features  of  his  philosophy,  as  seen  both 
by  those  who  approve  of  and  those  who  oppose  him.  My 
criticisms  are  all  advanced  on  what  is  admitted  by  all  his 
disciples  and  interpreters.  I  do  not  mean  to  inquire 
whether,  as  some  maintain,  there  is  an  inconsistency  between 
the  Preface  to  the  second  edition  and  the  first  edition ;  or 
what  he  means  by  the  "  I  think  "  which  he  represents  as  run- 
ning through  all  the  exercises  of  the  a  priori  reason,  and 
what  we  are  to  understand  by  the  scliematis7)ius  and  the 
"  a  priori  imagination.^'^  On  some  of  these  points  I  have 
views  which  I  may  intimate  as  I  advance.  But  there  are 
others  far  better  fitted  than  I  am  to  discuss  these  subjects, 
and  my  criticism  does  not  apply  to  any  controverted  doc- 
trine. My  objections  are  directed  against  deeper  and  more 
essential  parts  of  his  philosophy  on  which  all  are  agreed  as 
to  his  meaning.  I  object  to  three  fundamental  positions  of 
Kant. 


I. 

I  OBJECT  TO  HIS  CRITICAL  METHOD. 

it  seems  that  in  the  school  of  Wolff,  in  which  he  was 
trained,  he  was  led,  first,  to  favor  the  Dogmatic  method  of 
Descartes  and  Leibnitz.     But  the  inquiring  spirit  of  the 


I  OBJECT   TO  HIS   CRITICAL   METHOD.  199 

times  and  liis  own  reflection  convinced  him  that  this  method 
was  veiy  unsatisfactory,  as  each  man  or  school  had  set  out 
with  his  or  its  own  dogma,  and  people  were  now  unwilhng 
to  accept,  on  any  authority,  dogmas  which  had  not  been 
sifted  by  an  accredited  test.  Following  the  manner  of  the 
matter-of-fact  age,  he  then  turned  to  the  "  empiricism,"  as 
he  calls  it,  of  the  "  celebrated  Locke."  But  he  drew  back 
when  he  saw  what  consequences  were  drawn  from  it  by 
Hume.'  Dissatisfied  with  these  methods,  he  elaborated, 
expounded,  and  illustrated  a  method  of  his  own — the  Criti- 
cal Method. 

There  may  be  a  legitimate  use  of  each  of  these  methods 
if  it  is  kept  within  proper  limits.  All  inquirers  have  to 
assume  something,  which  may  be  called  a  dogma ;  but  they 
must  be  ready  to  show  grounds  for  making  the  assumption. 
A  narrow  empiricism  may  miss,  as  certainly  Locke  did,  some 
of  the  deepest  principles  of  the  mind ;  may  not  notice  first 
or  intuitive  principles.  There  is  need  of  a  criticism  to  dis- 
tinguish things  which  are  apt  to  be  confounded  in  hasty 
assumptions  and  generalizations.  But  surely  the  true 
method  in  all  sciences  which  have  to  do  with  facts,  as  I 
hold  that  all  the  mental  sciences  have,  is  the  inductive,  care 
being  taken  to  understand  and  properly  use  it. 

The  agent,  the  instrument,  the  eye,  the  sense  employed 
in  the  induction  of  the  facts,  is  self-consciousness.  By  it 
we  notice  the  operations  of  the  mind,  directly  those  of  our 
own  minds,  and  indirectly  those  of  others  as  exhibited  in 
their  words,  w^ritings,  and  deeds.     What  we  thus  notice  is 

'  It  does  not  appear  that  Kant  ever  read  Hume's  first  and  greatest 
work,  The  Treaike  of  Human  Nature ;  but  he  was  acquainted  in  a 
translation  with  the  Enquiry  into  the  Human  Understanding,  which 
was  a  second  form  of  the  first,  and  translated  into  German  by  Sulzer, 
1755,  and  also  with  a  translation  of  some  of  the  Essays  into  which 
Hume  broke  down  his  greater  works. 


200     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

singular  and  concrete,  like  the  facts  perceived  bj  tlie  exten.nl 
senses.  But  we  may  proceed  to  abstract  and  generalize  upon 
what  we  observe,  and  in  this  way  discover  laws  wliicli  are  to 
be  regarded  as  the  laws  of  our  mental  nature.  In  pursuing 
the  methods  we  find  laws  or  principles  which  are  funda- 
mental and  necessary.  Aristotle  called  them  first  truths ; 
others  have  called  them  by  other  names  :  Kant  designates 
them  as  a  priori  principles,  and  represents  them  as  pro- 
nouncing synthetic  judgments  a  priori,  I  hold  that  they 
perceive  objects  and  truths  directly  and  immediately,  and 
hence  may  be  called  intuitions.  They  act  prior  to  our  ob- 
seiwation  of  them ;  they  act  whether  we  observe  them  or 
not.  It  is  the  business  of  the  metaphysician  to  look  at 
their  working,  to  determine  their  exact  nature,  their  rule 
of  action,  and  the  authority  which  they  claim.  His  inspec- 
tion of  them  does  not  make  them  operate,  or  determine 
their  mode  of  operation.  He  can  watch  them  because  they 
act  and  as  they  act,  and  his  special  business  is  to  determine 
their  laws.  When  he  has  done  so  he  has  found  a  meta- 
physical, what  indeed  may  be  regarded  as  a  philosophical, 
principle.  A  system  or  systematized  arrangement  of  such 
principles  constitutes  metaphysics  or  mental  philosophy. 

Kant  was  altogether  right  in  saying  that  the  end  aimed 
at  in  metaphysics  is  to  furnish  an  "  inventory  "  or  "  com- 
pendium "  of  a  priori  principles.  But  he  proceeded  to  at- 
tain this  end  in  a  wrong  way — by  the  method  of  Criticism. 
Surely  criticism  must  proceed  on  acknowledged  rules  or 
tests.  On  what  principles  does  Kant's  criticism  proceed  ? 
Kant  answers,  "  Pure  speculative  reason  has  this  peculiar- 
ity, that  in  choosing  the  various  objects  of  thought  it  is 
able  to  define  tlie  limits  of  its  own  faculties,  and  even  to 
give  a  complete  enumeration  of  the  possible  modes  of  pro- 
posing problems  to  itself,  and  thus  to  stretch  out  the  entire 
cystem  of  metaphysics  "  (Pref.  to  2d  Edition).     But  must 


I   OBJECT   TO   HIS   CRITICAL   METHOD.  201 

tliere  not  in  that  case  be  a  prior  criticism  of  reason  to  find 
out  whether  it  can  do  this  ?  And  must  not  this  criticism 
imply  a  previous  one  from  higher  principles  ad  infinituwi  f 
Certain  it  is  that  from  the  time  of  Kant  we  have  had  a 
succession  of  critical  philosophies,  each  professing  to  go 
deeper  down  than  its  predecessors,  or  to  overtop  them. 
Fortunately — I  should  rather  say  wisely — Kant  takes  the 
forms  of  common  logic,  which  are  so  well  founded,  as  his 
criticising  principles,  and  has  thus  secured  valuable  truth 
and  much  systematic  consistency ;  only,  these  forms  have 
helped  to  keep  him  from  realities. 

Professor  Mahaffy  asks  with  amazement  whether  we  are 
to  accept  without  criticism  the  saws  of  the  common  people, 
or  the  dogmas  of  speculators — no  one  of  whom  agrees  with  his 
neighbor.  To  this  I  reply  that  it  has  always  been  under^ 
stood  that  there  is  criticism  in  the  inductive  method.  Ba- 
con would  have  us  begin  induction  with  the  "  necessary 
rejections  and  exclusions."  Whately  and  logicians  gener. 
ally  speak  of  the  necessity  of  "  analysis,"  and  Whewell  em 
joins  "  the  decomposition  of  facts."  But  this  analysis,  or 
criticism,  if  you  choose  to  call  it  so,  must  be  applied  t(> 
facts,  in  the  case  of  mental  science  as  made  knovvm  by  in 
ternal  observation.  It  must  aim  at  separating  the  complex- 
ity of  facts  as  they  present  themselves,  and  this  in  order  to 
discover  the  law  of  each  of  the  elements,  and  to  keep  us 
from  making  assertions  of  one  of  these  which  are  true  only 
of  another,  and  of  the  whole  what  are  true  only  of  some  of 
the  parts.  Our  aim  in  metaphysics  is  to  discover  what 
truths  are  intuitively  known,  and  for  this  purpose  we  must 
distinguish  them  from  their  concomitants,  in  particular 
from  all  mere  contingent  or  empirical  truths.  All  pro- 
fessed metaphysical  principles  are  attempted  generalizations 
of  our  intuitive  perceptions  and  judgments.  But  these 
generalizations  are  in  the  first  instance  apt  to  be  crude,  by 


202    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE  CEITICAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

reason  of  mixing  up  otlier  things  with  primitive  intuitions. 
Even  in  more  advanced  stages  of  philosophy  metaphysi- 
cians are  a]3t  to  lay  down  imjjerf  ect  and  mutilated  princi- 
ples to  support  their  theories.  There  is  therefore  need  of 
a  criticism  to  distinguish  things  that  differ,  but  which  are 
mixed  together  in  experience,  or  are  put  in  one  category 
by  system  builders.  But  in  our  examination  we  are  not  to 
put  ourselves  above  the  facts.  We  must  be  at  special  pains 
not  to  override  or  mutilate  them,  still  less  to  twist  or  tor- 
ture them.  Our  single  aim  should  be  to  apprehend  and 
express  them  accurately,  and  to  apply  them  only  to  the  objects 
on  which  they  bear.  Kant  speaks  (Pref.  to  2d  Edition)  of 
''  purifying  the  d  jj7nori  principles  by  criticism  ";  whereas 
the  proper  office  of  the  metaphysician  is  simply  to  discover 
what  they  are,  and  to  formulate  them  without  addition  or 
diminution. 

It  is  not  to  be  understood  that  our  observation  of  them,  of 
these  first  principles,  gives  them  their  being,  and  still  less  that 
it  gives  them  their  authority.  Our  notice  of  them  does  not 
give  them  existence.  "We  notice  them  because  they  exist. 
By  observation  we  can  discover  that  they  exist,  and  find 
the  extent  and  limits  of  their  jurisdiction  and  authority. 
Truth  is  truth,  whether  we  observe  it  or  no.  Still,  obser- 
vation has  its  place,  and  without  a  very  carefid  induction, 
metaphysics  are  sure  to  be  nothing  else  than  a  system  of 
arbitrary  dogmas.  The  induction  does  not  give  them  their 
title.  They  have  their  authority  in  themselves,  but  obser- 
vation makes  their  title  known  to  us.  Kant  is  constantly 
asserting  that  metaphysics  are  independent  of  the  teaching 
of  experience,  knd  that  they  must  not  call  in  experience. 
They  are  independent  of  experience  as .  that  mountain  is 
independent  of  my  eye.  Still,  it  is  only  by  my  eye  that  I 
can  see  the  mountain. 

A  metaphysical  philosophy  can  be  constructed  only  by 


I   OBJECT   TO  HIS   CRITICAL   METHOD.  203 

the  induction  of  the  operations  of  our  intuitions.  We  can 
give  the  marks  and  tests  of  these  intuitions.  Their  prima- 
ry and  essential  character  is  not  necessity,  as  Leibnitz  held ; 
nor  necessity  and  universality,  as  Kant  maintained ;  but 
self-evidence  :  they  look  immediately  on  things,  and  con- 
tain their  evidence  within  themselves.  Being  so,  they  be- 
come necessary,  that  is,  have  a  necessity  of  conviction, 
which  is  the  secondary  test,  and  universal — that  is,  enter- 
tained by  all  men,  which  is  their  tertiary  corroboration. 

After,  but  not  till  after,  having  discovered  and  co-ordi- 
nated intuitive  principles,  we  may  then,  if  we  are  deter- 
mined, inquire  whether  they  are  to  be  trusted.  Such  an 
investigation  can  not,  I  fear,  be  very  fruit-bearing;  the 
result  must  be  mainly  negative.  It  is  an  attempt  to  dig 
beneath  the  ground  on  which  the  building  rests,  to  fly 
above  the  air.  Still,  by  such  a  process  we  may  be  able  to 
show  that  our  intuitions  confirm  each  other,  and  thus  yield 
not  a  primary,  but  a  secondary  or  reflected,  evidence  of 
their  trustworthiness.  It  can  also  be  shown  that  they  do 
not  contradict  each  other ;  that  there  is  nothing  in  them  to 
countenance  the  alleged  antinomies  of  Kant,  Hegel,  Ham- 
ilton, or  Spencer,  aU  of  which  are  contradictions,  not  in 
things  or  our  intuitive  convictions,  but  simply  in  the  mu- 
tilated propositions  drawn  out  by  these  men.  But  in  the 
first  and  last  resort  we  are  to  rest  on  the  circumstance  that 
these  first  principles  are  of  the  nature  of  intuitions  looking 
directly  on  things.  As  this  is  the  first,  so  it  is  also  the 
strongest  evidence  that  the  mind  can  have.  It  is  the  strong- 
est which  it  can  conceive  itself  to  have.  When  it  has  this 
it  is  always  satisfied,  and  it  does  not  seek  anything  more ; 
and  if  more  be  offered,  it  wiU  be  felt  to  be  a  superfluity, 
and  if  it  be  pressed,  it  will  be  apt  to  resent  it  as  insult. 


204    A   CKITICI&M  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


II. 

I  OBJECT  TO  KANTS  PHENOMENAL  THEORY  OF 
PRIMITIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 

Hume  opens  his  Treatise  of  Human  ISTature  :  "  All  the 
perceptions  of  the  human  mind  resolve  themselves  into 
two  distinct  kinds,  which  I  call  impressions  and  ideas." 
The  diiierence  between  these  consists  in  the  greater  live- 
liness of  the  impressions.  Under  impressions  he  includes 
such  heterogeneous  mental  states  as  sensations,  perceptions, 
emotions,  and  I  should  suppose  resolutions.  Under  ideas 
he  has  memory,  imagination  (often  as  lively  as  sensation), 
judgment,  reasoning,  moral  convictions,  all  massed  together. 

Kant's  aim  was  to  meet  the  great  scejjtic.  In  doing  so 
he  wished  to  make  as  few  assumptions  as  possible.  Let  us 
assume,  he  virtually  says,  what  no  one  can  deny.  Hume 
had  said,  "  As  long  as  we  confine  our  speculations  to  the 
appearances  of  objects  to  our  senses,  without  entering  into 
disquisitions  concerning  their  real  nature  and  operations, 
we  are  safe  from  all  difficulties."  At  this  point  Kant 
starts :  Let  us  assume  the  existence  of  appearances — 
Hume's  very  words ;  of  Erssheinungen,  of  Eindriicke — that 
is,  impressions.  This  is  his  first  and  perhaps  his  greatest 
mistake. 

Kant,  as  it  appears  to  me,  should  have  met  Hume's  very 
first  positions.  The  mind  does  not  begin  with  {mp>ressions. 
The  word  is  vague,  and  in  every  way  objectionable.  It 
signifies  a  mark  made  by  a  harder  body,  say  a  seal,  upon  a 
softer  body,  say  wax.  Taken  literally,  it  implies  two 
bodies — one  impressing,  the  other  impressed ;  applied  meta- 
phorically, it  indicates  a  body  to  impress  and  a  mind  im- 
pressed. As  applied  to  our  perceptions  by  consciousness, 
say  of  self  as  thinking,  and  our  purely  mental  acts,  as  our 


I  OBJECT   TO  HIS   PHENOMEISTAL  THEOKY.         205 

idea  of  moral  good,  it  has  and  can  liave  no  meaning  for 
there  is  nothing  without  impressing,  and  the  operation  has 
nothing  whatever  of  the  nature  of  an  impression.  Kant 
should  have  met  these  primary  positions.  But  he  concedes 
them.  In  doing  so  he  has  broken  down  his  walls  of  defence, 
and  admitted  the .  horse  fashioned  by  the  deceit  of  the 
enemy,  and  is  never  able  to  expel  him  or  counteract  the 
evil  which  he  works. 

An  impression,  if  it  means  any  thing,  means  a  thing  im- 
pressed. An  appearance,  if  we  understand  it,  means  a 
thing  appearing,  and  it  seems  to  imply  a  being  to  whom  it 
appears.  An  impression  without  a  thing  impressed  is  an 
abstraction  from  a  thing  impressed.  An  appearance  is  an 
abstraction  from  a  thing  appearing.  As  all  abstractions 
imply  a  concrete  thing  from  which  they  are  taken,  so  all 
appearances  imply  a  thing  known  as  appearing.  In 
physics  a  phenomenon  means  a  thing,  a  reality  presented, 
to  be  referred  to  a  law. 

It  has  been  commonly  allowed,  since  the  days  of  Locke, 
that  man's  two  original  inlets  of  knowledge  are  sensation 
or  sense-perception,  and  reflection  or  seK-consciousness. 
Kant  speaks  everywhere  of  an  outer  and  an  inner  sense. 
Kow,  I  hold  that  by  both  of  these  we  know  things.  By 
sense-perception  we  know  our  bodies  and  bodies  beyond 
them;  and  Kant  says  correctly,  "Extension  and  impen- 
etrability together  constitute  our  conception  of  matter" 
(Trans.,  p.  3Y9).  There  may  be  disputes  diflicult  to  settle — 
as  what  are  our  original  and  what  our  acquired  sense- 
perceptions,  whether  of  our  bodily  frame  or  of  it  with 
objects  affecting  it ;  but .  our  acquired  imply  original  per- 
ceptions, and  both  in  the  first  instance  and  in  the  last 
resort  contemplate  objects  as  extended,  and  exercising  some 
sort  of  energy.  It  is,  if  possible,  still  more  emphatically 
true  that  self-consciousness  reveals  not  mere  appearance, 
but  self  as  a  thing,  say  as  thinking  or  feeling. 


206    A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  proof  of  this?  To 
this  I  answer,  first,  as  an  arguTnentum  ad  hominem,  that 
we  have  the  same  proof  of  it  as  we  have  of  the  impression, 
of  the  presentation,  of  the  phenomenon.  Whatever  those 
who  hold  these  slippery  theories  appeal  to,  I  also  appeal 
to ;  and  I  am  sure  that  the  tribunal  must  decide  in  my  be- 
half. I  have  the  same  evidence  of  the  existence  of  a  thing 
impressed  as  I  have  of  the  impression,  of  the  thing  appear- 
ing as  I  have  of  the  appearance.  But  secondly,  and  posi- 
tively, the  position  I  hold  can  stand  the  tests  of  intuition. 
It  is  self-evident ;  we  perceive  the  very  things,  say  the  nos- 
trils as  affected,  or  seK  as  reasoning.  We  do  not  need  me- 
diate proof ;  we  have  immediate.  It  is  also  necessary ;  I 
can  not  be  made  to  believe  otherwise  that  I  do  not  exist,  or 
that  there  is  no  body  resisting  my  energy.  It  is,  farther, 
universal,  as  admitting  no  exceptions,  and  as  being  held  by 
all  men,  young  and  old,  savage  and  civilized.  It  can  thus 
stand  the  tests  used  by  Kant,  which  are  the  two  last. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  account  given  by  Kant.  Ac- 
cording to  him,  we  know  mere  appearance ;  and  his  defini- 
tion is,  "the  undetermined  object  of  an  empirical  intuition 
is  called  an  appearance  or  phenomenon."  Speaking  of  the 
rainbow,  "not  only  are  the  rain-drops  mere  phenomena, 
but  even  their  circular  form,  nay,  the  space  itself  through 
which  they  fall,  is  nothing  in  itself,  but  both  are  mere 
modifications  or  fundamental  dispositions  of  our  sensuous 
intuition,  while  the  transcendental  object  remains  for  us 
utterly  unknown  "  (Trans.,  p.  38).  This  is  his  account  not 
merely  of  material  objects,  but  of  space,  time,  and  self. 
"  Time  and  space,  with  all  phenomena  therein,  are  not  in 
themselves  things.  They  are  nothing  but  representations, 
and  can  not  exist  out  of  and  apart  from  the  mind.  N'ay, 
the  sensuous  internal  intuition  of  the  mind  (as  the  object 
of  consciousness),  the  determination  of  which  is  represented 


I  OBJECT  TO  HIS  PHENOMENAL  THEOEY.         207 

by  the  succession  of  different  states  in  time,  is  not  the  real 
proper  self  as  it  exists  in  itself,  not  the  transcendental  sub- 
ject, but  only  a  phenomenon  which  is  presented  to  the  sen- 
sibiKty  of  this,  to  us,  unknown  being  "  (Trans.,  p.  307). 

Professor  Mahaffy  calls  on  me  to  define  what  I  mean  by 
thing.  I  answer  that  it  is  one  of  those  simple  objects 
which  according  to  all  logicians  can  not  be  logically  de- 
fined ;  not  because  we  do  not  know  it,  but  because  we 
know  it  at  once,  and  can  not  find  anything  simpler  or 
clearer  by  which  to  explain  it.  All  that  we  can  do  posi- 
tively is  to  say  that  it  is  what  we  know  it  to  be ;  or  to  ex- 
press it  in  synonymous  phrases,  and  call  it  a  being  or  an 
existence.  But  we  may,  as  logicians  allow  in  such  cases, 
lay  down  some  negative  propositions  to  face  misapprehen- 
sions, and  to  distinguish  it  from  other  things  with  which  it 
may  be  confounded.  1.  It  is  not  an  abstract  or  general 
knowledge,  say  of  a  to  ov  or  essence  or  being;  or  of  a 
quality,  say  form  or  thought ;  or  of  a  maxim,  say  that  a 
property  imphes  a  substance.  Our  primary  knowledge  is  in 
no  sense  a  science,  which  is  knowledge  systematized.  But 
the  knowledge  thus  arranged  is  real  knowledge,  and  be- 
cause it  is  so,  science  is  to  be  regarded  as  deahng  with  reali- 
ties, and  gives  no  sanction  to  agnostics  or  nihilism.  2. 
This  thing  is  not  a  mere  appearance.  What  appears  may 
be  known  very  vaguely — it  may  be  a  cloud,  a  shadow,  or 
the  image  of  a  tree  in  a  river.  Still  it  is  a  reality — that  is, 
a  real  thing ;  it  consists  of  drops  of  moisture,  of  a  surface 
deprived  of  hght,  or  of  a  reflection.  3.  Man's  primary 
perception  is  not  of  a  relation  between  objects,  but  of  ob- 
jects themselves.  When  I  see  a  round  body  I  see  it  as  a 
round  body.  I  may  also  be  conscious  of  myself  as  per- 
ceiving it.  Having  these  two  objects  I  may  discover  a  re- 
lation between  them,  and  find  that  the  round  body  affects 
me.    But  I  first  know  the  rouad  body  and  the  self,  and  as  ex- 


208    A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

isting  independent  of  each  other.  The  round  body  maybe 
seen  by  others  as  well  as  me,  and  the  seK  may  next  instant 
be  contemplating  a  square  body.  Holding  by  these  posi- 
tions we  are  dehvered  from  both  the  phenomenal  and  rela- 
tive theories  of  knowledge  of  body  and  mind,  and  find 
that  we  have  real  things,  between  which  we  may  discover 
relations  which  are  also  real.  A  relation  without  things 
has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  like  a  bridge  with  nothing 
to  lean  on  at  either  end. 

The  thing  which  I  thus  posit  is,  I  admit,  not  the  same 
as  that  of  which  Kant  speaks.  We  are  told  that  Kant  had 
two  kinds  of  sensible  knowledge — things  as  phenomena, 
and  things  jper  se.  I  have  been  asserting  that  we  know 
more  than  phenomena.  I  allow  that  what  I  assume  is  not 
the  thing  in  itself — the  Ding  an  sich,  as  Kant  expresses  it ; 
the  thing  ^^7*  se,  as  Mahaify  translates  it.  I  confess  that  I 
do  not  understand  what  is  meant  to  be  denoted  by  this 
phrase,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  of  a  misleading  character, 
as  seeming  to  have  a  profound  meaning  when  it  has  no 
meaning  at  all.  If  I  have  the  thing,  I  do  not  care  about 
having  the  in  itself,  as  an  addition — if,  indeed,  it  be  an  ad- 
dition. It  is  enough  for  me  that  I  know  the  thing,  the 
very  thing,  and  I  may  wish  to  know  more  of  the  thing ; 
and  this  I  may  be  able  to  do,  but  only  by  making  additions 
in  the  same  way  as  I  have  acquired  my  primary  knowl- 
edge. As  to  the  thing  in  itself,  it  always  reminds  of  the 
whale  that  swallowed  itself. 

I  do  believe  that  Kant,  like  Locke,  wished  to  be  a  real- 
ist, but  both  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  a  footing  on  terra 
firm,a ;  Locke  by  making  the  mind  perceive  only  ideas, 
and  Kant  because  he  made  it  perceive-  phenomena,  which 
are  only  a  more  fugitive  form  of  ideas.  He  opposes  ideal- 
ism, and  maintains  that  the  internal  implies  the  existence  of 
the  external — by  a  very  doubtful  argument,  as  it  appears  to 


I   OBJECT   TO  HIS   PHE]SrOMEN"AL  THEOEY.        209 

me,  unless  we  give  the  internal  the  power  of  knowing  the 
external.  He  is  quite  sure  that  there  is  a  thing,  a  Ding 
an  sicli.  But  then  he  admits  that  we  can  never  reach  it, 
can  never  catch  it.  The  thing  does  exist,  but  then  it  is  a 
thing  unknown  and  unknowable,  and  we  land  ourselves  in 
contradiction  if  we  suppose  that  we  know  it.  Kant  is  thus 
the  true  founder  and  Hamilton  the  supporter  (both  without 
meaning  it),  and  Herbert  Spencer  the  builder  of  the  doc- 
trine of  nescience  or  agnostics,  underlying  so  much  of  the 
philosopliic  and  physical  speculation  of  the  present  day. 

"We  can  avoid  these  consequences  only  by  making  the 
mind  begin  with  a  reality.  If  we  do  not  begin  with  it  we 
can  not  end  with  it.  If  we  do  not  assume  it  we  can  not  in- 
fer it.  "  How  can  we  reason  but  from  what  we  know  \ " 
And  if  there  be  not  knowledge  and  fact  in  the  premises, 
we  can  not,  as  Kant  knew  weU,  have  it  in  the  conclusion 
without  a  gross  paralogism. 

Kant  holds  that  the  mind  has  the  power  of  Perception, 
of  Anschauung.  But  let  us  carefully  note  what  this  Per- 
ception is.  He  argues  that  there  is  a  thing,  a  thing  in 
itself  without  the  mind,  but  this  is  unknown  and  unknow- 
able, and  is  known  simply  by  what  it  produces  in  the 
mind.  In  the  perception  itself  there  is  both  an  d  priori 
and  an  a  posteriori  element — a  sensation  of  color,  or  feel- 
ing, or  taste  caused  from  without,  but  perceived  under  the 
form  of  space  in  the  mind.  IS'ow  all  these  are  in  the  mind 
itself.  I  may  quote  from  The  Reproduction  in  the  Text- 
Booh  to  Kant  by  Dr.  Stirling,  who  surely  understands  his 
author :  "  "We  know  only  our  own  affections.  What  we 
call  things  are  only  these  affections  themselves  variously 
combined,  manipulated,  and  placed."  "All  our  knowl- 
edge consists  of  two  factors  and  both  are  subjective." 
"  We  have  always  to  recollect  that  what  we  call  things  are 
but  aggregates  of  our  own  sensations  and  nothing  reaUy 


210    A  CRITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

witlioTit."  This  is  true  even  of  space  and  time.  "  Whether 
we  look  on  sj)ace  or  time,  it  is  only  om*  own  states  we  know 
in  either  "  (p.  42).  This  seems  to  me  to  be  a  very  artificial 
and  altogether  a  very  unnatural  account  of  perception — a 
process  of  which  we  are  all  conscious.  It  certainly  takes  < 
us  away  altogether  from  external  things  and  issues  logi- 
cally in  agnosticism. 

I  am  aware  that  in  maintaining  the  reality  of  things 
within  and  without  we  have  to  draw  certain  distinctions. 
There  is  the  distinction  between  our  original  and  acquired 
perceptions.  It  is  only  in  the  first  of  these  that  we  know 
the  thing  directly  ;  the  others  we  know 'only  by  a  process 
of  gathered  experience  in  which  error  may  creep  in.  We 
now  know  approximately  what  are  our  original  perceptions 
by  the  various  senses.  By  the  eye  we  know  primarily  only 
a  colored  surface.  By  the  muscular  sense  we  know  bodies 
as  solid  or  impenetrable.  By  the  senses  of  taste,  smell;  and 
feeling  we  seem  to  know  only  our  organism  as  affected. 
These  distinctions  were  unknown  to  Kant  and  his  imme- 
diate followers,  and  have  only  been  revealed  to  us  by  the 
experiments  wrought  on  the  senses,  such  as  those  of  Chisel- 
den  and  Franz,  showing  that  we  do  not  know  distance  by 
the  eye. 

It  may  be  noticed,  also,  that  in  the  school  of  Kant  there 
is  not  so  much  attention  paid  as  in  the  school  of  Locke  and 
Reid  to  the  distinction  often  ill-expressed  between  the  Pri- 
mary and  Secondary  Quahties  of  Matter.  The  Primary  are 
such  as  extension  and  potency,  found. in  all  bodies,  whereas 
the  Secondary  are  organic  affections,  such  as  colors,  heat, 
sounds,  tastes,  implying  an  external  cause.  Thus  heat  is 
felt  as  an  affection  of  the  bodily  frame,  but  it  has  a  cause 
in  molecular  motion.  Carrying  these  distinctions  with  us, 
we  can  and  shoujd  maintain  that  in  our  original  sense-per- 
ceptions we  know  matter  and  its  primary  quahties  directly 
and  immediately, 


THE  MIND   IMPOSING   FORMS.  211 


III. 

/  OBJECT  TO  KANTS  IDEAL  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 
MIND  IMPOSING  FORMS  ON  THINGS  AP- 
PEARING. 

This  error  connects  itself  with  the  previous  ones.  Man 
is  supposed  to  perceive  not  things,  but  appearances,  and  he 
calls  in  forms  to  give  unity  to  scattered  appearances.  These 
forms  are  void  in  themselves ;  thej  need  a  content,  and  they 
are  applicable  to  objects  of  possible  experience,  but  to  noth- 
ing else.  The  language  is  meant  to  express  a  truth,  but  it 
fails  to  do  so.  WouJd  it  be  correct  to  represent  the  law  of 
gravitation,  as  a  form,  void  in  itself,  and  capable  of  being 
applied  to  matter  and  its  molecules  ?  The  correct  statement 
is  that  gravitation  is  a  property  of  matter.  In  like  manner, 
the  original  endowments  of  mind  are  powers  in  the  mind 
itseK,  enabling  us  to  know  things. 

Kant  maintains  that  it  must  either  be  the  external  that 
determines  the  internal,  or  the  internal  that  determines  the 
external.  The  experientialist  makes  the  external  determine 
the  internal,  makes  the  mind  simply  reflect  what  passes  be- 
fore it.  Kant  maintains  in  opposition  that  the  internal  de- 
termines the  external,  and  he  would  thus  raise  a  breakwater 
in  the  mind  itseK  against  materialism  and  scepticism.  But 
surely  the  natural  and  rational  supposition  is  that  the  inter- 
nal perceives  (not  creates)  the  external,  and  it  should  be 
added,  the  internal  also.  The  primitive  intellectual  exer- 
cises of  the  mind  are  perceptions  looking  at  things.  Bj 
sense-perception  we  perceive  external  objects  in  our  body 
or  beyond  it  as  they  are  presented  to  us,  and  we  know  them 
as  extended  and  resisting  our  energy.  By  self -consciousness 
we  know  self  as  thinking,  imagining,  hating,  or  loving. 
These  exercises  are  all  singular,  but  we  can  generalize  them 


212     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  tliiis  discover  the  laws  of  our  perceptions — ^be  it  ob- 
served, perceptions  of  things,  and  not  impressions  or  ap- 
pearances— and  these  form  an  important  department  of 
metaphjsic,  which  becomes  a  positive  department  of  true 
science,  and  not  a  mere  pohce,  as  Kant  would  make  it,  to 
preserve  us  from  error.  We  have  here  in  the  mind  prin- 
ciples which,  looking  to  things,  give  us  fundamental  truths. 

But  Kant  gives  to  these  principles  not  a  mere  perceptive, 
but  a  formative  power.  Our  intuitions  are  not  percep- 
tions, looking  at  things  and  the  relations  of  things,  but 
moulds  imposing  on  phenomena  what  is  not  in  the  phe- 
nomena. Our  primary  knowledge  thus  consists  of  two  ele- 
ments, one  a  jposterioi'i  from  experience,  the  other  dprim^i 
from  the  stores  of  the  mind. 

This  may  be  the  appropriate  place  at  which  to  call  atten- 
tion to  the  phrases  a  2)riori  and  a  posteriori,  so  constantly 
employed  in  all  philosophic  works.  In  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle,  by  proceeding  a  priori  is  meant  going  from 
cause  to  effect  or  from  antecedent  to  consequent ;  by  a 
posteriori,  arguing  from  effect  to  cause  or  from  consequent 
to  antecedent.  Hume  occasionally  uses  the  phrases,  but 
gives  them  a  somewhat  different  signification.  By  a  priori 
he  designates  what  is  known,  independent  of  experience ; 
by  d  posteriori,  what  is  gathered  by  experience.  It  is  in 
this  sense  the  terms  are  used  by  Kant,  and  in  all  the  phi- 
losophies that  have  ramified  from,  or  been  influenced  by 
him.  These  phrases  are  so  universally  used  that  we  can  not 
discard  them.  But  in  employing  them  let  us  understand 
what  is  meant  by  them.  We  are  not  to  interpret  them  as 
implying  that  there  is  Tiuoicledge  or  notions  in  the  mind 
prior  to  experience,  l^or  are  we  to  use  them  as  implying 
that  the  mind  in  its  perceptions  gives  to  the  object  a  qual- 
ity not  in  the  thing  as  knovni. 

By  a  priori  we  denote  principles  which  are  in  the  very 


THE  MIXD   IMPOSING  FOEMS.  213 

nature  and  constitution  of  the  mind ' — to  use  lano^iiao:e  fa- 
vored  by  Butler  and  the  Scottish  school.  But  in  some  con- 
nections the  phrase  is  liable  to  be  misunderstood,  and  may 
lead  into  serious  error.  It  may  mean  that  we  are  entitled 
to  start  with  a  favorite  principle  without  pre^dously  in- 
quiring whether  it  has  a  place  in  the  mind,  and  what  is  its 
precise  place ;  and  then^ear  upon  it  or  by  it  a  huge  super- 
structure. I  use  the  phrase  as  one  universally  adopted,  but 
I  employ  it  only  as  I  explain  it.  I  denote  by  it  those  prin- 
ciples, intellectual  and  moral,  which  act  in  the  mind  natu- 
rally and  necessarily.  But  I  do  not  allow  that  we  can  use 
them  in  consti-ucting  systems  till  we  have  first  carefully  in- 
ducted them.  I  believe  in  d  prio?'i  laws  operating  spon- 
taneously in  the  mind,  but  I  do  not  believe  in  an  d  priori 
science  constructed  by  man.  There  is  a  sense  indeed  in 
which  there  may  be  an  d  priori  science — that  is,  a  science 
composed  of  the  d  priori  principles  in  the  mind.  But  then 
they  have  to  be  discovered  in  order  to  form  a  science,  and 
their  precise  nature  and  mode  of  operation  determined  by  d 
posteriori  inspection.  Like  the  Scottish  school,  I  am  suspi- 
cious of  the  lofty  systems  of  ancient,  mediaeval,  and  modem 
times,  which  have  been  fashioned  by  human  ingenuity. 
Acting  on  this  principle,  I  reject,  with  the  majority  of 
thinking  people,  and  with  metaphysicians  themselves,  more 
than  half  the  metaphysics  that  have  been  constructed.  At 
times  I  am  grateful  when  I  discover  a  native  principle 
woven  into  these  webs,  only  considerably  twisted.  In  re- 
jecting these  speculations  I  am  not  to  be  charged  with 
rejecting  d  priori  truths  in  the  mind.  I  am  simply  scepti- 
cal of  the  use  that  has  been  made  of  them  by  the  ingenuity 
of  man.     With  me,  philosophy  consists  in  a  body  of  first 


^  They  are  the  Regulative  Principles  spoken  of  under  the  Three- 
fold Aspect  of  Intuition  at  the  opening  of  No.  Y.  of  this  Series. 


214    A   CEITICISM   OF  THE   CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

principles  in  tlie  mind,  carefully  observed  and  expressed. 
This  may  be  as  firm  and  sure  as  any  system  of  natural 
science. 

But  in  emplojang  them,  let  us  understand  what  we  mean 
by  them.  We  are  not  to  understand  them  as  unplying 
that  there  is  knowledge  or  notions  in  the  mind  prior  to  ex- 
perience. They  are  to  be  understood  as  simply  denoting 
that  thete  laws  are  in  the  mind  prior  to  any  exercise  of  them 
and  regulating  our  exercises,  intellectual  and  moral,  and 
guaranteeing  great  fundamental  truths.  Of  this  description 
is  the  law  in  our  mind  which  leads  us  to  decide  that  an  ef- 
fect proceeds  from  a  cause. 

Here  I  may  remark  that  there  is  an  ambiguity  in  the 
term  '  experience,'  which  has  seldom  been  noticed.  It  may 
denote  an  individual  experience  or  it  may  signify  a  gathered 
experience  or  induction.  In  the  former  sense,  ever}i:hing 
which  passes  through  the  mind  is  an  experience — say  the 
experience  of  ourselves  in  pain  or  of  ourselves  as  knowing 
and  deciding.  In  this  sense  every  exercise  of  intuition  or 
of  d  priori  reason  is  an  experience.  These  individual  ex- 
periences, it  is  evident,  do  not  reveal  anji;hing  beyond 
themselves.  But  w^hen  we  talk  of  experience  making 
known  truth  we  mean  a  gathered  experience  or  an  induc- 
tive process  leading  to  a  law.  It  is  in  this  latter  sense  that 
we  draw  the  distinction  between  truth  discovered  d  priori 
and  truth  discovered  by  experience  or  a  posteriori — the 
better  phrase  would  be  ^  inductive  experience.' 

He  admits  that  there  is  an  d  posteriori  matter  furnished 
by  the  senses.  I  confess  I  have  had  a  difficulty  in  finding 
what  this  d  posteriori  matter  is.  In  the  Introduction  he  tells 
us  what  belongs  to  "  sensuous  experience,'' — "  color,  hard- 
ness or  softness,  weight,  impenetrability,  etc."  In  the  open- 
ing of  the  Transcendental  Esthetic  he  gives  us  as  belong- 
ing to  sensation,  ''  impenetrability,  hardness,  color,"  etc.    It. 


THE  MIND   IMP0SI2«^G  FOSMS.  215 

is  rather  strange  to  find  impenetrability  here,  as  it  imphes 
both  extension  and  force,  which,  in  his  system,  are  supposed 
to  be  imposed  d  priori  by  the  mind  itseK.  This  shows  in 
what  difficulties  he  is  when  he  would  refer  some  percep- 
tions to  sensation  or  experience  and  others  to  forms  in  the 
mind. 

But  while  he  holds  that  we  get  so  much  from  sensation 
and  experience,  he  maintains  that  we  have  a  more  import- 
ant a  priori  element  imposed  as  a  form  on  objects.  Phe- 
nomena present  themselves  through  the  senses  as  manifold 
and  scattered.  I  perceive  a  rose  to  have  unconnected  23he- 
nomena,  as  particles,  colors,  odors,  shapes,  and  the  mind 
combines  them  into  a  unity  of  object.  Now,  we  have  to 
meet  Kant  at  this  second  point  as  we  have  met  him  at  the 
first.  I  have  been  arguing  that  the  mind  begins  with  the 
knowledge  of  things  existing ;  and  I  now  affirm  that  this 
knowledge  is  of  things  in  the  concrete,  of  substances  with 
their  properties,  of  body  as  at  once  having  form  and  color, 
of  this  stone  at  one  and  the  same  time  with  the  form  of  a 
cross  and  of  a  brown  color.  The  unity  is  not  given  to  it 
by  the  mind,  it  is  in  the  object,  say  the  rose  or  stone ;  but  is 
perceived  at  once  by  the  senses.  At  this  point  he  intro- 
duces his  first  ideal  element  and  in  doing  so  he  gives  an  en- 
tirely erroneous  view  of  what  the  senses  disclose. 

He  carried  this  distinction  into  every  exercise  of  the  senses, 
there  being  always  an  a  posteriori  part  but  a  more  pow- 
erful a  priori  element  imparted  by  the  mind.  He  uses  this 
latter  part  as  a  rock  to  beat  back  the  waves  of  scepticism. 
But  in  all  this,  he  has,  in  fact,  allowed  the  entrance  of  a 
more  subtle  scepticism  than  that  of  Hume.  In  all  cases  the 
subjective  joins  on  to  the  objective,  and  we  can  not  tell 
what  the  object  as  a  thing  is  as  distinguished  from  the  sub- 
ject. For  if  the  formative  mind  may  add  one  thing,  why 
not  two,  or  ten,  or  a  hundred,  till  we  know  not  what  reality 
is  left  us  ?  ,- 


216    A   CEITICISM   OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Thus  we  have  a  door  opened  for  the  entrance  at  one  and 
the  same  time  of  idealism  and  agnosticism ;  both  of  these 
have,  in  fact,  come  in.  We  have  an  ideal  element  contrib- 
uted bj  the  mind,  an  element  giving  no  objective  reality 
and  an  empirical  element,  implying  it  may  be  a  reahty, 
which,  however,  must  forever  remain  unknown.  We  shall 
see  that  higher  minds,  such  as  Fichte,  ScheUing,  and  Hegel, 
used  the  ideal  factor  and  raised  imposing  structures,  of 
which  we  are  not  sure  whether  they  are  soHd  mountains  or 
cloudland.  While  more  earthly  minds  took  the  other  fac- 
tor and  drove  it  to  an  agnosticism  wliich  seeks  a  basis  in 
materiahsm  Hume  said  tliat  "  if  we  carry  our  inquiry  be- 
yond the  appearances  of  objects  to  the  senses,  I  am  afraid 
that  most  of  our  conclusions  will  be  full  of  scepticism  and 
uncertainty."  But  we  have  seen  that  when  we  make  what 
are  commonly  regarded  as  things  to  be  mere  appearances, 
we  are  certainly  landed  in  these  issues  with  nothing  left  to 
deliver  us  from  them. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  distinction  between  ana- 
lytic and  synthetic  judgments,  and  to  the  circumstance  that 
metaphysics  consist  in  synthetic  judgments  d  priori.  I 
maintain  that  metaphysics  have  to  look  first  to  things  be- 
fore they  compare  things,  and  have  to  treat  of  primitive 
cognitions  before  they  treat  of  primitive  judgments.  But 
so  far  as  judgments  are  concerned,  the  distinction  is  a  valid 
and  an  important  one.  But  Kant's  account  is  not  accurate. 
There  are  undoubtedly  synthetic  judgments  d  priori. 
But  what  is  their  nature  ?  They  are  not  judgments  apart 
from  things,  they  are  judgments  about  things ;  that  two 
straight  lines  can  not  enclose  a  space  is  such  a  judgment, 
but  it  is  a  judgment  about  lines.  From  what  we  know 
about  straight  lines,  we  perceive  and  are  sure  and  decide 
that  they  can  not  enclose  a  space.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
innumerable  ot'&er  primitive  synthetic  judgments.     Such 


THE  MI]^D  IMPOSING  FORMS.  217 

are  those  we  pronounce  in  regard  to  space  and  number  and 
time,  as  that  two  straight  hues  which  have  gone  on  for  an 
inch  without  coming  nearer  each  other  will  go  on  forever 
as  straight  lines  without  being  nearer ;  that  equals  added 
to  equals  must  be  equals,  and  that  time  is  continuous  and 
has  no  breaks  in  it ;  we  perceive  these  propositions  to  be 
true  from  the  nature  of  the  things  as  known  to  us.  Such 
are  all  mathematical  axioms,  and  all  deep  ethical  maxin^, 
such  as  that  we  should  keep  our  word. 

In  order  to  prevent  his  philosophy  from  rising  into  total 
idealism,  he  is  forever  telling  us  that  the  forms  which  he 
calls  in  have  a  meaning  only  as  applied  to  objects  of  pos- 
sible experience.  Here,  as  in  so  many  other  cases  in  Kant's 
philosophy,  there  is  truth  involved,  but  it  is  not  accurately 
expressed.  What  propriety  would  there  be  in  saying  that 
gravitation  has  a  meaning  only  when  applied  to  objects  of 
possible  experience?  The  true  statement  is  that  gravita- 
tion is  a  law  of  all  material  things.  So  we  would  say  of 
the  primitive  judgment  of  causation  that  every  effect  has 
a  cause ;  that  it  is  not  a  judgment  applicable  to  all  objects 
of  possible  experience,  but  to  all  objects  known  to  us 
as  real. 

I  am  now  to  apply  these  principles  in  the  examination 
of  Kant's  ^'Kritik  of  Pure  Reason"  in  detail,  simply 
avoiding  those  topics  in  which  his  meaning  is  disputed. 
The  forms  which  the  mind  is  supposed  to  superinduce  on 
objects  fall  into  three  classes :  I.  In  Esthetic,  that  is,  the 
senses,  the  Forms  of  Space  and  Time.  II.,  In  Analytic,  the 
Categories  of  Quantity,  Quality,  Relation,  Modahty,  each 
including  three  subdivisions,  in  all  twelve ;  and  III.  In 
Dialectic,  the  three  Ideas  of  Substance,  Interdependence 
of  Phenomena,  and  God. 


218    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Transcendental  Esthetic. 

In  treating  of  the  doctrine  that  the  mind  knows  only 
appearances,  I  have  indicated  my  objections  to  Kant's 
account  of  the  senses.  It  keeps  us  away  altogether  from 
things  which  it  is  the  very  object  of  the  senses  to  make 
known  to  us.  He  maintains  resolutely  that  there  is  a  world 
^sting  external  to  the  mind,  but  on  his  principles  there 
can  be  no  evidences  of  this.  He  left  himself  no  means  of 
meeting  his  quondam  pupil  Fichte,  when  he  argued  that 
the  mind  which  could  create,  space  and  time  might  also 
create  the  objects  in  space  and  time ;  that  tlie  mind  which 
could  give  extension  to  this  ball  might  give  it  everything 
else  which  it  has.  This  external  thing  is  represented,  quite 
inconsistently  with  his  theory,  to  be  unknown  and  unknow- 
able. If  an  appeal  be  made  to  sense  and  experience  to  tes- 
tify that  the  external  thing  exists,  these  will  testify  farther, 
that  we  know^  something  of  it — in  fact,  we  know  it  to  exist 
because  we  know  so  far  what  it  is. 

He  tells  us  that  "  all  intuition  possible  to  us  is  sensuous  " 
(Trans.,  p.  90).  The  word  "  sensuous  "  is  apt  to  leave  a  bad 
impression,  and  has,  in  fact,  left  such  an  impression,  as  it 
seems  to  represent  all  intuition  as  being  of  the  external 
senses.  But  he  evidently  means  to  include  in  the  phrase  our 
internal  sense  or  self-consciousness.  Both  these  senses  per- 
ceive only  phenomena.  Even  self-consciousness  gives  us 
nothing  more.  "  The  subject  intuites  itself,  not  as  it  would 
represent  itself  immediately  and  spontaneously,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  manner  in  which  the  mind  is  internally  a£[ected, 
consequently  as-  it  appears,  and  not  as  it  is  "  (Trans.,  p.  41), 
I  may  give  another  passage  or  two  as  translated  by  Mr. 
Mahaffy  :  "  The  internal  sense  by  which  the  mind  intuites 
its  own  internal  states  gives  us  no  intuition  of  the  soul  as 
an  object."     ""bur  self -consciousness  does  not  present  to  us 


TRANSCENDENTAL   ESTHETIC.  219 

the  ego  any  more  distinctly  than  our  external  intuition  does 
to  us  foreign  bodies ;  we  know  both  only  as  phenomena." 
He  does  not  seem  to  ascribe  much  to  this  internal  intuition. 
"  The  notion  of  personality  though  d  priori  is  not  an  intu- 
ition at  all,"  but  "  a  logical  supposition  of  thought."  At 
this  point,  that  is,  at  his  account  of  our  internal  intuition, 
our  higher  British  and  American  metaphysicians  are  most 
inclined  to  leave  him. 

Kant's  whole  account  of  self-consciousness  is  complicated 
and  confused.  Dr.  Stirling,  in  his  Rejproduction^  in  ex- 
plaining Kantism,  tells  us  "  that  inner  sense  is,  as  a  sense, 
to  be  strictly  distinguished  from  self-consciousness  or  the 
perception  of  the  ego.  The  contents  of  the  former  are  all 
the  transient  states  of  the  empirical  subject  when  under 
sentient  feeling;  whereas  those  of  the  latter  are  but  the 
simple  I,  a  mere  intellectual  act ;  the  bare  thought,  I,  I,  I, 
or  /  that  am  here  and  now  thinking  {das  '  ich  denJce.''  )" 
We  shall  see  as  we  advance  that  he  brings  in  an  "  I  think," 
which  gives  a  unity  to  all  our  thinking.  All  these  are  un- 
natural and  perverted  accounts  of  the  one  thing,  self-con- 
sciousness, or  the  internal  sense.  It  is  the  power  which 
perceives — ^that  is,  knows — self  in  its  present  state.  It  runs 
through  all  our  states,  giving  us  a  continuous  self,  and  the 
various  states  of  self,  say,  as  thinking  or  willing. ' 

Kant  argues  that  in  getting  rid  of  many  appearances 
about  what  is  revealed  by  the  senses,  such  as  color,  odor, 
feeling,  we  can  never  put  away  or  get  rid  of  space  in  the 
external,  or  time  in  the  internal  sense.  These  he  represents 
as  forms  imposed  by  the  mind ;  space  being  the  form  of 
material,  and  time  of  mental  phenomena.  There  is  some 
little  foundation  of  truth  in  all  this,  but  the  statement  is, 
after  all,  utterly  perverse,  and  it  is  made  to  give  currency 
to  error.  Certainly  space  is  involved  in  all  the  exercises  of 
the  external  senses ;  but  this,  properly  interpreted,  means 


220    A  CRITICISM   OF   THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

simply  that  we  know  matter  as  extended.  It  is  true  that 
time  is  bound  up  Tvdth  the  exercise  of  the  internal  sense, 
or  self -consciousness,  but  by  this  we  are  simply  to  under- 
stand that  all  events  are  remembered  in  time.  It  does  not 
follow  that  they  are  creations  of  the  mind,  or  that  they  are 
properly  represented  when  they  are  spoken  of  as  forms  im- 
posed on  phenomena.  It  is  not  true  that  extension  and 
duration  are  superimposed  on  objects ;  they  are  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  objects  and  events  as  made  known  to  us. 

There  are  other  things  besides  space  and  time  that  we 
can  not  be  rid  of  in  thought,  as  we  contemplate  things  per- 
ceived. For  example,  we  know  both  matter  and  mind  as 
having  being.  The  old  Eleatics  were  right  in  giving  to  6v 
a  deep  place  in  their  philosophy,  though  they  erred  in  mak- 
ing so  many  affirmations  about  so  simple  a  thing.  I  believe 
farther  that  we  know  all  objects  disclosed  by  the  senses  as 
having  power,  as  acting  and  being  acted  on.  I  think  we 
might  farther  represent  them  as  in  a  sense  having  inde- 
pendence and  permanence,  that  is,  they  are  not  created  by 
our  minds  as  we  observe  objects,  nor  do  they  cease  to  exist 
when  we  cease  to  notice  them.  They  exist  independent  of 
i;s,  and  whether  we  notice  them  or  not.  They  are  as  much 
entitled  to  be  called  forms  as  space  and  time.  Being,  po- 
tency, permanence,  are  not  d  priori  forms  imposed  on  sub- 
stances ;  they  are  in  the  substances.  Just  as  little  is  exten- 
sion added  to  matter  or  duration  added  to  events ;  they  are 
in  matter  and  discerned  to  be  in  matter  or  mind. 

Kant  represents  space  and  time  as  having  an  existence, 
but  it  is  merely  a  subjective  existence,  that  is,  in  the  mind 
as  contemplating  objects  and  events.  But  I  affirm  that  in- 
tuitively and  necessarily  all  men  look  on  them  as  existing, 
and  as  existing  independently  of  our  noticing  them. 
I  am  quite  as  sure  of  the  reality  of  space  and  time  in- 
dependent of   my  mind   as  of   the  objects  in  space   and 


TEAIiTSCEN-DElS'TAL  AESTHETIC.  221 

time.  Bj  making  space  and  time  merely  subjective, 
Kant  introduced  an  ideal  element  into  his  philosophy  which 
he  could  never  expel.  We  have  only  to  carry  out  the 
same  principle  a  step  farther  to  be  landed  in  the  thorough 
ideahsm  of  Fichte,  and  make  the  mind  create  the  objects 
in  space  and  the  occurrences  in  time.  Then  when  men 
come  to  perceive  that  an  ideal  existence  is  no  existence,  but 
merely  an  imaginary  or  ghostly  existence,  the  creed  they 
adopt  will  be  nescience.  We  find  extremes  meeting  in  the 
present  day  in  a  pretentious  ideahsm  joined  with  a  deadly 
agnosticism. 

But  what  is  space  ?  and  what  is  time  ?  The  answer  is, 
that  we  can  not  explain  them  so  as  to  make  them  conceiv- 
able to  one  who  did  not  already  know  them.  But  we  all 
know  them  in  the  concrete  in  objects  and  events,  and  we 
are  sure  that  they  are  what  we  know  them  to  be.  We  do 
not  need  any  explanations  as  to  what  they  are,  we  perceive 
them  directly,  and  are  satisfied  without  feeling  it  necessary 
to  put  any  farther  questions. 

From  what  we  know  we  can  make  many  afiirmations 
regarding  them.  The  axioms  and  demonstrations  of  mathe- 
matics proceed  upon  them.  The  Kantians  labor  to  show 
that  they  can  explain  by  their  forms  the  certainty  and  the 
necessity  of  mathematical  tniths,  which  are  just  the  evolu- 
tion of  what  the  mind  imposes  on  appearances.  "Kant 
found  that  he  could  not  trace  out  and  learn  the  properties 
of  an  isosceles  triangle  from  what  he  saw  in  it,  or  from 
mere  thinking  about  it,  but  rather  from  what  he  had  added 
to  the  figure  in  his  own  mind  d  priori,  and  had  them  rep- 
resented by  a  construction.  He  also  found  that  all  the  safe 
djpriori  knowledge  he  could  obtain  about  it  was  merely 
the  necessary  consequence  of  what  he  had  introduced  into 
it  according  to  his  own  concepts  "  (Mahaffy's  Grit.  Phil, 
for  English  Readers,  p.  12).     But  surely  this  leaves  it 


232    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

utterly  uncertain  whether  what  we  thus  bring  out  of  our 
minds  can  be  asserted  of  veritable  things ;  whether,  so  far 
as  things  are  concerned,  we  can  say  that  the  angles  of  a 
triangle  must  be  equal  to  two  right  angles ;  or  whether  par- 
allel lines  can  not  meet.  We  have  a  much  simpler  and 
more  rational  way  of  accounting  for  the  apodictic  certainty 
of  mathematics.  We  perceive  lines  and  surfaces  as  reali- 
ties ;  we  agree  to  look  solely  to  the  length  of  lines  and  the 
length  and  breadth  of  sm-f  aces ;  and  as  we  do  so  we  dis- 
cover that  they  have  certain  properties  involved  in  their 
very  nature,  and  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are 
together  equal  to  two  right  angles,  and  that  parallel  lines 
can  not  meet.  The  properties  of  the  ellipse,  as  demon- 
strated by  ApoUonius,  were  ready  to  be  applied  to  the 
planetary  bodies  when  Kepler  showed  that  they  moved  in 
elHptic  orbits.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  put  many 
questions  regarding  space  and  time  which  we  can  not  an- 
swer. Affirmations  are  often  made  of  them  which  are 
altogether  meaningless,  and  which  we  can  neither  prove  or 
disprove.  There  may  be  assertions  made  in  regard  to  them 
which  are  contradictory,  and  this  not  because  there  is  any- 
thing inconsistent  in  the  things  themselves,  but  because  we 
make  rash  statements  which  contradict  each  other. 

While  we  have  a  knowledge  of  space  and  time  we  should 
allow  that  this  is  somewhat  indefinite.  We  know  them  as 
realities ;  but  do  we  ever  know  them  apart  from  other 
things  ?  We  know  this  body  as  occupying  space,  we  know 
this  event  as  occurring  in  time,  and  we  know  the  space  and 
time  to  be  realities  quite  as  much  as  the  body  and  the  event 
is ;  but  do  we  ever  know  space  and  time  as  separate  things, 
or  capable  of  a  distinct  and  independent  existence — ^as  a 
tree  is  distinct  from  an  animal  ?  Space  and  time  look  as  if 
somehow  or  other — ^we  may  not  be  able  to  tell  how — they 
were  always  corPnected  with  something  else,  as  if  they  were 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC.  223 

dependent  on  something  else  for  their  manifestation.  I 
believe  them  to  be  dependent  on  God,  who  inhabits  all 
space  and  all  time. 

In  following  our  intuitive  convictions  as  to  space  and 
time,  we  are  constrained  to  regard  both  as  having  no  limits. 
This  gives  rise  to  a  difficulty  which  Kant  has  powerfully 
pressed.  It  seems  to  make  two  infinites,  that  of  space  and 
time,  each  embracing  all  things,  while  we  are  also  con- 
strained to  believe  in  a  third  infinite,  in  God  the  Almighty, 
the  Eternal.  But  there  is  a  misapprehension  involved  in 
this  objection.  We  do  not  hold  that  space  and  time  are 
infinites  ;  infinity  is  merely  an  attribute  of  both.  We  do 
not  say  of  their  infinity  that  it  embraces  all  things — we 
would  never  propose  to  make  the  infinity  of  space  embrace 
morahty.  When  we  say  that  space  is  infinite  we  mean 
simply  that  there  are  no  hmits  to  its  extension.  There  is 
not  even  an  apparent  inconsistency  between  this  and  the 
infinity  of  time  and  the  infinity  of  God.  It  can  not  be 
proven  that  the  infinity  of  space  or  time  is  inconsistent 
with  the  infinity  of  God ;  more  probably  they  are  em- 
braced in  His  infinity. 

Transcendental  Analytic. 

We  now  rise  from  the  Senses  to  the  Understanding,  der 
Yerstand,  from  Intuitions  to  IS^otions  or  Conceptions.  The 
understanding  pronounces  judgments.  He  gives  an  inven- 
tory of  these  judgments  and  calls  them  Categories.  The 
phrase  is  taken  from  Aristotle,  who  has  ten  Categories,  being 
the  heads  under  which  our  predications  regarding  things 
may  be  ranged.  The  aim  of  Kant,  as  has  been  shown  again 
and  again,  is  somewhat  different :  it  is  to  give  us  the  forms 
which  the  mind  imposes  on  our  intuitions  or  perceptions  in 
the  judgments  which  it  pronounces.  They  are  four  in 
number,  each  subdivided  into  three,  in  aU  twelve. 


224   A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

I.  Quantity.  II.  Quality. 

Unity.  Reality. 

Plurality.  Negation. 

Totality.  Limitation. 

in.  Relation.                               IV.  Modality. 

Inherence  and  Subsistence.  Possibility  and  Impossibility. 

Causality  and  Dependence.  Existence  and  Non-existence. 

Reciprocity   of   Agent  and  Necessity  and  Contingence. 
Patient. 

There  has  been  an  immense  amount  of  discussion  in 
Germany  about  these  categories.  The  first  two  of  the  four 
are  evidently  taken  from  Logic,  of  which  Kant  was  pro- 
fessor, and  are  found  in  all  treatises  of  formal  logic.  The 
remarks  of  Kant  upon  them  have  helped  to  make  the 
ordinary  logic  more  clear,  consistent,  and  philosophical. 
They  are  represented  as  mathematical,  whereas  the  other 
two  are  dynamical  and  certainly  imply  ideas  of  being,  of 
force  and  causation.  These  last  are  metaphysical  rather 
than  logical  and  do  not  now  appear  in  the  treatises  of 
formal  logic  which  treat  of  the  laws  of  discursive  thought. 

It  appears  to  me  that  Kant  should  here  have  given  us 
not  the  forms  of  logic,  but  the  relations  which  the  mind 
can  discover.  It  is  the  province  of  the  psychological 
faculty  of  judgment  to  discover  relations.  This  was  per- 
ceived by  Locke,  who  gave  an  excellent  classification  of  the 
relations,  making  them,  however,  relations  between  ideas 
which  we  are  capable  of  discerning,  and  not  things.  Hume 
also  gives  the  mind  a  power  of  discovering  relations,  and 
gives  a  good  enumeration  of  them,  endeavoring  all  the  time 
to  explain  them  away  by  showing  that  the  relations  are 
simply  between  impressions  or  ideas  which  imply  no 
realities.'     It  was  in  this  way  that  Hume  carried  out  his 

'Locke  speaks  of  relations  as  being  innumerable,  and  mentions 
Cause  and  Effect.'^ime,  Place,  Identity  and  Diversity,  Proportion  and 
Moral  Relations  (Essay  II.  28).   Hume  mentions  Resemblance,  Identity, 


TEAT^SCENDENTAL  Al^ALYTIC.  22r> 

scepticism.  As  lie  began  with  impressions  and  ideas  im- 
plying no  object  perceived  or  mind  perceiving  it,  lie  goes 
on  to  make  the  understanding  to  deal  entirely  with  these. 
Kant,  as  the  professed  opponent  of  scepticism,  should  have 
met  Hiime  at  this  point.  But  he  has  not.  He  first  gave 
the  sceptic  an  entrance  by  the  senses ;  he  now  allows  him  a 
place  in  the  understanding,  and  it  will  be  found  difficult  to 
expel  him. 

Equally  with  space  and  time  the  categories  are  forms. 
They  have  their  seat  and  power  in  the  mind.  The  forms 
of  sense  .were  imposed  by  the  mind  on  appearances ;  the 
forms  of  the  understanding — this  is,  the  categories — are 
imposed  on,  and  give  them  their  unity.  The  question  with 
me,  what  is  the  reality  implied  in  the  judgments  of  the 
understanding  ?  Already  the  reality  has  very  much  dis- 
appeared. In  the  intuitions  of  the  senses  there  had  been 
so  much  of  a  reality  as  is  implied  in  the  appearances  which, 
however,  have  always  d  prioj'i  forms  imposed  on  them. 
]^ow,  the  judgment  is  pronounced  on  this  complex  of 
appearance  and  intuition,  and  the  reality  has  all  but 
vanished.  The  categories  are  "  nothing  but  mere  forms  of 
thought,  which  contain  only  the  logical  faculty  of  uniting 
dj)riori  in  consciousness  the  manifold  given  in  intuition. 
Apart  from  the  only  intuition  possible  for  us,  they  have 
still  less  meaning  than  the  pure  sensuous  forms,  space  and 
time ;  for  through  them  an  object  is  at  least  given,  while  a 
mode  of  connection  of  the  manifold,  when  the  intuition 
which  alone  gives  the  manifold  is  wanting,  has  no  meaning 
at  all"  (Trans.,  p.  184). 

This  is  not,  as  it  appears  to  me,  the  natural  or  the  true 

Space  and  Time,  Quantity,  Degree,  Contrariety,  Cause  and  Effect. 
Keeping  these  lists  before  me,  I  make  them  Identity,  Comprehension 
Whole  and  Parts,  Resemblance,  Space,  Time,  Quantity,  Active  Prop- 
erty, Cause  and  Effect  (Intuitions,  P.  II.  B.  III.). 


226     A   CRITICISM   OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

account.  I  hold  that  the  mind,  first  by  its  cognitive  power 
of  sense,  external  and  internal,  knows  things,  and  then  by 
the  understanding  or  comparative  powers  discovers  various 
kinds  of  relations  between  things.  Of  course,  if  the  things 
be  imaginary  the  relations  may  also  be  imaginary.  Thus 
we  may  say  that  Yenus  was  more  beautiful  than  Minerva, 
and  both  the  terms  and  the  propositions  are  unreal.  But 
when  the  intuitions  are  of  realities,  when  I  am  speaking  of 
Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  and  declare  Demosthenes  a  greater 
orator  than  Cicero,  there  is  a  reaUty  both  in  the  terms  and 
the  propositions. 

Here  it  will  be  necessary  to  correct  an  error  into  which 
the  whole  school  of  Kant  has  fallen.  They  deny  that  the 
understanding  has  any  power  of  intuition,  der  Yerstand 
can  not  intuite.  I  maintain,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  has,  the 
statement  being  properly  explained  and  understood.  The 
comparative  powers  presuppose  a  previous  knowledge  of 
things  by  the  senses  and  consciousness,  and  they  give  us  no 
new  things.  But  having  such  a  knowledge,  the  mind,  by 
barely  looking  at  the  things  apprehended,  may  discover  a 
relation  between  them,  and  this  intuitively  by  bare  inspec- 
tion, without  any  derivative,  mediate,  or  discursive  process. 
Thus  understood,  we  may  have  intuitive  or  primitive  judg- 
ments as  well  as  perceptions.  These  constitute  an  important 
part  of  the  original  furniture  of  the  mind,  and  should  be 
included  in  our  inventory. 

Taking  the  category  of  cause  and  effect  as  an  example, 
let  me  exhibit  the  difference  between  the  view  elaborated 
by  Kant  and  that  which  I  take.  We  affirm  that  the  cause 
of  that  rick  of  hay  taking  fire  was  a  lucif er-match  apphed 
to  it.  What  have  we  here  ?  According  to  Kant,  a  rick  or 
an  appearance,  partly  tl  poste/'iori  with  a  certain  color,  and 
partly  d  priori  with  a  form  given  it.  We  have  also  a 
lucifer-match  with  a  hke  double  character,  a  priori  and  d 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC.  227 

posteriori.  "We  unite  the  two  by  means  of  an  d  jpriori 
category,  that  of  cause  and  effect,  and  declare  the  lucifer- 
match  to  be  the  cause  of  the  conflagration.  Is  this 
the  real  mental  process  ?  Let  me  give  in  contrast  what 
I  beheve  to  be  the  true  account.  We  have  first  the 
rick  as  a  reality,  and  then  the  match  as  a  reahty,  both 
known  by  the  senses  and  information  we  have  had 
about  them.  On  looking  at  the  rick  and  discovering  a 
change,  we  intuitively  look  for  a  cause,  and  on  considering 
the  properties  of  the  lucifer-match,  we  decide  that  it  is  fit 
to  be  the  cause.  We  have  thus  reahties  throughout,  both 
in  the  original  objects  and  the  relations  between  them. 

Kant  is  constantly  telling  us  that  the  function  of  the 
categories  is  to  give  a  unity  to  the  perceptions  compared. 
But  let  us  understand  wtat  is  or  should  be  meant  by  this. 
It  ought  not  to  signify  that  the  unity  is  an  identity — this 
was  the  conclusion  to  which  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel 
sought  to  drive  the  doctrine  of  Kant  on  this  subject.  What 
we  should  understand  is  simply  that  the  unity  is  one  of 
relation,  say  of  space,  of  quantity,  of  causation.  Little  or  no 
information  is  given  us  by  saying  that  intuitions  or  notions 
are  brought  to  a  unity  unless  it  is  told  us  in  respect  of  what 
they  are  one,  that  is,  by  what  relation,  say  by  resemblance 
by  time  or  whatever  else.  It  should  be  understood  that  the 
oneness  indicated  is  merely  one  in  respect  of  that  relation, 
which  should  always  be  expressed. 

I  announced  at  the  opening  of  this  paper  that  in  my  criti- 
cism I  was  to  proceed  only  on  what  is  admitted  by  all  as  to  the 
meaning  of  Kant.  At  the  part  of  his  great  work  to  which 
we  have  now  come  there  are  several  disputed  points,  and, 
however  tempted,  I  do  not  mean  to  discuss  these.  In 
treating  of  the  categories  he  brings  an  a  jpriori  '  I  think ' 
called  an  apperception — Us  running  through  all  our  judg- 
ments, and  imparting  a  unity  to  them.     There  is  truth 


228    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

here,  but  i  t  is  not  accurately  unfolded.  The  correct  statement 
is :  By  self -consciousness  we  know  self  in  its  present  state,  say 
as  thinking,  and  this  knowledge  of  self  goes  on  with  all  our 
states,  and,  among  others,  the  acts  of  the  imderstanding  in 
judgment. 

He  calls  in  an  djoriori  use  of  imagination  and  a  schemor 
tismus.  Both  are  meant  to  bridge  over  gaps  in  his  system. 
It  is  true  that  if  an  object  be  absent  and  we  have  to  think 
of  it,  we  nmst  have  an  image,  or  what  Arictotle  calls  a 
phantasm  of  it,  and  the  mind  can  put  these  phantasms  in 
all  sorts  of  forms.  Kant  brings  in  an  djpriori  imagination 
to  represent  to  the  judgment  the  manifold  of  the  senses  in 
unity.  I  regard  it  as  an  important  function  of  the  phantasy 
to  represent  absent  or  imaginary  objects  to  the  understand- 
ing to  judge  of  them.  The  office  of  the  schematism  is  to 
show  how  the  categories,  which  are  d  jpriori  forms,  are  ap- 
plicable to  the  em]3irical  intuitions  of  sense.  I  do  not  need 
such  an  intermediary,  as  I  hold  that  the  mind  can  at  once 
know  things  and  the  relations  of  things. 

At  the  close  of  the  Analytic,  Kant  lays  down  a  number 
of  principles  which  follow  from  his  theory  and  seem  to 
confirm  it.  We  have  Axioms  of  Intuition,  Anticipations 
of  Perception,  Analogies  of  Experience,  The  Postulates  of 
Empirical  Thought.  These  are  not  essential  parts  of  his 
system,  and  have  no  value  to  those- who  do  not  adopt  them. 
I  think  it  expedient,  therefore,  to  omit  the  discussion  of 
them,  as  in  no  way  helping,  in  one  way  or  other,  the  con- 
troversy about  the  idealism  of  Kant. 

He  is  now  prepared  to  give  us  a  division  of  all  objects 
into  Phenomena  and  IN'oumena.  His  account  of  each  and 
of  the  relation  between  them  is  very  unsatisfactory.  Of 
the  first  it  is  supposed  that  we  know  only  appearances 
which  do  not  correspond  to  realities.  Of  the  second  we  know 
that  they  exist,  but  then  they  are  unknown  and  unknowa- 


TKANSCENDEI^TAL  DIALECTIC.  229 

ble.  Nothing  but  agnosticism  can  issue  logically  and  prac- 
ticallj  from  such  a  doctrine.  How  much  more  natural  and 
reasonable  to  regard  the  phenomenon  as  a  thing  appearing 
and  so  far  known,  as  in  fact  a  noumenon  implying  intel- 
ligence. 

Transcendental  Dla.lectic. 

Dialectic  was  a  method  introduced  by  Zeno,  the  Eleatic, 
and  followed  by  Socrates,  who  estabhshed  truth  by  discus- 
sion, in  which  division,  definition,  and  the  law  of  contra- 
diction played  an  important  part.  Aristotle  used  the  plirase 
to  describe  the  logic  of  the  probable  as  distinguished  from 
the  apodictic.  The  dialectics  of  Kant  estimate  the  reahty 
to  be  found  in  the  exercises  of  reason.  He  arrives  at  the 
conclusion  that  these  all  end,  not  just  in  deceit,  but  in  illu- 
sion. He  has  been  laboriously  building  a  mighty  fabric ; 
but  he  now  proceeds  to  pluck  it  down  with  his  own  hands. 
At  this  point  he  is  guilty  of  intellectual  suicide.  He  is  de- 
scribed by  Sir  W.  Hamilton  as  the  dialectical  Samson,  who, 
in  pulhng  down  the  house  upon  others,  has  also  pulled  it 
down  upon  himself. 

The  professor  of  Logic  at  Konigsberg  was  nothing  if  not 
logical.  Beginning  with  intuition  he  has  gone  on  to  the 
Notion  and  Judgment,  and  now  rises  to  Reasoning  beyond 
der  Yerstand  to  die  Yernunft.  All  his  critics  think  that, 
strange  as  it  may  seem  of  one  who  has  studied  Reason  so 
profoundly,  he  confounds  what  most  of  our  deeper  philoso- 
phers have  distinguished,  reason  and  reasoning — ^the  first  of 
which  perceives  certain  truths — such  as  the  axioms  of  Eu- 
chd  immediately,  whereas  the  other  deduces  a  conclusion 
from  premises.  As  the  forms  of  space  and  time  give  unity 
to  the  manifold  of  the  senses,  and  the  categories  give  unity 
to  our  perceptions,  so  reason  or  reasoning  gives  a  unity  to 
the  judgments.  The  form  which  gives  this  unity  is  called 
by  him  an  Idea.     All  human  cognition  begins  with  intui- 


230     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

tion,  proceeds  from  thence  to  conceptions,  and  ends  with 
ideas.  This  word  Idea  is  one  of  tlie  vaguest  terms  used  in 
metaphysics.  Introduced  into  philosophy  by  Plato,  who 
signifies  by  it  the  napadeiyjia  in  or  before  the  mind,  it 
had  a  different  meaning  attached  to  it  by  Descartes  and 
Locke,  the  latter  of  whom  makes  it  the  object  of  the  un. 
derstanding  when  it  thinks ;  and  now  it  embraces  in  popular 
use  nearly  every  mental  apprehension,  and  in  particular 
two  such  different  things  as  the  individual  image  or  phan- 
tasm, say  of  a  rose,  and  the  general  notion  as  the  class  rose. 
Kant  employs  it  in  a  sense  of  his  own  to  denote  the  form 
which  gives  unity  (a  vague  enough  phrase,  as  we  have  seen) 
to  the  Categories. 

Reason,  according  to  Kant,  takes  three  forms — Categor- 
ical, Conditional,  Disjunctive.  This  may  be  true  of  rea- 
soning, but  is  certainly  not  true  of  Pure  Reason.  As  to 
reasoning,  I  hold  that  it  is  always  one  and  the  same.  But 
it  does  take  the  three  forms  spoken  of  by  Kant,  and  I  look 
on  the  division  of  Kant  as  founded  on  fact.  But  I  reckon 
the  use  of  it  by  him  as  artificial  in  the  extreme. 

The  Forms  of  Reasoning. 
Categorical,  Conditional,  Disjunctive. 

The  Binding  Ideas. 
Sut)stance,     Interdependence  of  Phenomena,     God. 

It  is  hard  to  discover  how  the  Ideas  as  forms  give  the 
Reasoning,  or  how  the  Ideas  are  given  by  the  Reasoning. 
In  particular,  his  derivation  of  God,  from  Disjunctive  Rea- 
soning seems  to  me  very  constrained.  IsTo  doubt  Disjunc- 
tive Reasoning,'  which  proceeds  by  Division,  implies  a  unity 
in  the  thing  divided.  But  it  is  scarcely,  reverent  to  desig- 
nate it  God.  This  may  seem  pious,  but  it  is  not  so ;  I 
wish  he  had  c^led  it  by  some  other  name.  The  God  who 
is  the  issue  of  this  logical  process  is  not  the  hving  and  the 


TEANSCENDEIS^TAL  DIALECTIC.  231 

true  God.  Certainly  no  one  could  cherish  love  towards 
such  a  product.  It  turns  out  that  this  God  is  discarded 
and  cast  out  as  peremptorily  as  he  has  been  brought  in. 

But  my  search  is  after  the  reality,  supposed  to  be  in 
these  ideas.  What  reality  remains,  except,  indeed,  a  sub- 
jective reality  implying  an  objective  existence  ?  Is  it  not 
virtually  gone  ?  The  light  has  been  reflected  from  mirror 
to  mirror,  till  now  nothing  definable  is  left.  There  was 
a  sort  of  reality,  phenomenal  and  subjective,  in  the 
intuition  ;  this  had  still  an  attached  reality  in  the  judgment. 
But  it  is  diiBcult  to  detect  it,  and  impossible  to  deteraiine 
what  it  is  in  the  third  transformation — a  reality  or  an  illu- 
sion, a  something  or  a  nothing,  a  shadow  or  a  reflection  of 
a  shadow.  Kant  acknowledges,  ''  The  categories  never  mis- 
lead us,  object  being  always  in  perfect  harmony  therewith, 
whereas  ideas  are  the  parents  of  irresistible  illusions" 
(Trans.,  p.  394).  These  illusions  are  like  the  concave  shape 
we  give  the  sky ;  like  the  rising,  rounded  form  we  give  the 
ocean  when  we  stand  on  the  shore ;  like  the  foam  made  by 
the  waters,  which  we  may  wipe  away,  only  to  find  it  gather 
again.  Kant  is  still  pursuing  the  reality,  the  Ding  an  sich, 
but  it  is  as  the  boy  pursues  the  rainbow,  without  ever 
catching  it.  He  argues  powerfully  that  if  we  suppose  these 
ideas  to  be  realities  we  fall  into  logical  fallacies. 

Substance. — If  from  the  intuitions  of  sense  or  the  cate- 
gories of  the  understanding  we  suppose  substance  to  be 
real,  we  have  a  paralogism — that  is  more  in  the  conclusion 
than  is  justified  by  the  premises.  This  is  undoubtedly  true 
if  we  regard  our  primitive  intuitions  as  appearances  and  not 
things,  and  the  categories  as  having  to  do  solely  with  aj)- 
pearances.  Kant  examines  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes. 
If  the  ego  is  in  the  cogito  we  have  no  inference,  but  merely 
a  reassertion.     If  the  ego  is  not  in  the  cogito,  then  the  con- 


232    A  CRITICISM   OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

elusion  does  not  follow — we  have  a  paralogism ;  we  have 
only  an  appearance  and  not  a  thing.  I  have  a  very  decided 
opinion  that  we  should  not  try  to  prove  the  existence  of 
self,  or  of  body,  by  mediate  reasoning.  "We  should  assume 
the  existence  of  ego  cogitans  as  made  known  by  seK-con- 
sciousness,  and  also  of  body  as  extended  and  resisting  our 
energy  by  the  senses.  We  know  both  mind  and  body  as 
having  Being,  Potency,  and  as  having  Objective  Existence, 
and  not  created  by  our  contemplating  them,  and  this  makes 
them  substances. 

Interdependence  of  Phenomena. — Under  this  head  he 
maintains  that  we  are  landed  in  contradictions  or  anti- 
nomies, that  is,  if  we  look  on  the  Ideas  as  implying  things. 
He  resolves  the  contradictions  by  showing  that  we  are  not 
to  imagine  that  what  we  can  affirm  and  can  prove  to  be  con- 
tradictory in  phenomena  is  necessarily  so  of  things.  Those 
of  us  who  hold  that  the  mind  knows  things  have  to  meet 
these  contradictions.  This  we  do  by  showing  that  the 
counter  propositions  in  some  cases  are  not  proven,  and  that 
in  other  cases  the  alleged  contradictions  are  merely  in  our 
own  mutilated  statements,  and  not  in  the  things  themselves, 
or  our  native  convictions  about  them. 

First  Antinomy. 

The  world  has  a  beginning  in  The  world  has  no  beginning  in 
time  and  is  limited  as  to  space.  time,  and  no  limits  in  space,  but 

is  in  regard  to  both  infinite. 

Now  upon  this  I  have  to  remark,  first,  that  as  to  the  "world"  we 
have,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  no  intuition  whatever.  We  have  merely 
an  intuition  as  to  certain  things  in  the  world,  or,  it  may  be,  out  of  the 
world.  Our  reason  does  declare  that  space  and  time  are  infinite,  but 
it  does  not  declare  whether  the  world  is  or  is  not  infinite  in  extent  and 
duration. 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC.  233 

Second  Antinomy. 

Every  composite  substance  con-  No  composite  thing  can  consist 

sists  of  simple  parts,  and  all  that  of  simple    parts,   and  there  can 

exists  must  either  be  simple  or  not  exist  in  the  world  any  simple 

composed  of  simple  parts.  substance. 

Our  reason  says  nothing  as  to  whether  things  are  or  are  not  made  up 
of  simple  substances.  Experience  can  not  settle  the  question  started 
by  Kant  in  one  way  or  other.  We  find  certain  things  composite  ;  these 
we  know  are  made  up  of  parts  ;  but  we  can  not  say  how  far  the  de- 
composition may  extend,  or  what  is  the  nature  of  the  furthest  elements 
reached. 

Thied  Antinomy. 

Causality,  according  to  the  laws  There  is  no  such  thing  as  free- 

of  nature,  is  not  the  only  causality  dom,  but  everything  in  the  world 

operating  to  originate  the   phe-  happens  according  to  the  laws  of 

nomena  of  the  world  ;  to  account  nature, 
for  the  phenomena  we  must  have 
a  causality  of  freedom. 

Here  I  think  reason  does  sanction  two  sets  of  facts  :  One  is  the  exist- 
ence of  freedom  ;  the  other  is  the  Universal  prevalence  of  some  sort  of 
causation,  which  may  differ,  however,  in  every  different  kind  of  ob- 
ject. These  may  be  so  stated  as  to  be  contradictory.  But  our  con- 
victions in  themselves  involve  no  contradiction  ;  it  is  impossible  to  show 
that  they  do  by  the  law  of  contradiction,  which  is  that,  "A  is  not 
Not-A."  "There  is  some  sort  of  causation  even  in  voluntary  acts," 
and  "the  will  is  free";  no  one  can  show  that  these  two  propositions 
are  contradictory. 

Fourth  Antinomy. 

There  exists  in  the  world,  or  in  An    absolutely  necessary    being 

connection  with  it,  as  a  part  or  as  does  not  exist,  either  in  the  world 

the  cause  of  it,  an  absolutely  nee-  or  out  of  it,  as  the  cause  of  the 

essary  being.  world. 

Our  reason  seems  to  say  that  time  and  space  must  have  ever  existed, 
and  must  exist.  When  a  God  is  found,  by  an  easy  process,  the  mind 
is  led  by  intuition  to  trace  up  these  effects  in  nature  to  Him  as  the  un- 
derived  substance.  No  contradictory  proposition  can  be  established 
either  by  reason  or  experience. 

A  little  patient  investigation  of  our  actual  intuitions  will  show 


234     A   CEITICISM   OF  THE   CEITICAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

that  all  these  contradictions,  of  whicli  the  Kantians  and  Hegelians 
make  so  much,  are  not  in  our  constitutions  but  in  the  ingenious  struc- 
tures fashioned  by  metaphysicians  to  support  their  theories. 

It  is  often  urged  as  a  powerful  argument  in  favor  of  Kant's  phe- 
nomenal theory  that  it  enables  us  to  see  that  there  may  be  no  inconsist- 
ency between  the  universal  reign  of  causality  and  the  freedom  of  the 
will ;  for  both  are  to  be  regarded  as  laws  of  the  phenomenal  and  not 
the  real  world.  But  all  this  shows,  not  that  the  will  is  free  in  the  real 
world,  but  merely  that  it  may  be  free ;  while  we  are  obliged  to  look 
upon  it  as  not  free  in  this  world  of  appearances  in  which  we  live.  It  is 
surely  much  more  satisfactory  to  show  that  in  the  real  world  it  is  free 
and  that  it  can  not  be  proven  that  there  is  a  contradiction  between  this 
fact  and  the  law  of  causation  properly  explained. 

The  Theistic  Akguments. — He  lias  a  well-known  three- 
fold classification  of  tliem :  the  Ontological,  the  Cosmolog- 
ical,  and  the  Phjsico-Theological.  I  have  no  partiality  for 
the  first  two.  The  first  is,  that  from  the  idea  of  the  perfect 
in  the  mind  we  may  argue  the  existence  of  a  perfect  being. 
I  am  not  sure  that  the  idea  of  the  perfect  implies  the  exist- 
ence of  a  corresponding  being,  though  it  prepares  us  for 
receiving  the  evidence  and  enables  us  to  clothe  the  Divine 
Being  shown  on  other  grounds  to  exist,  with  perfection.  In 
regard  to  the  second,  which  infers  from  the  bare  existence 
of  a  thing  that  it  has  a  cause,  I  am  not  prepared,  from  the  bare 
existence  of  a  handful  of  sand,  or  a  piece  of  clay,  to  argue  that 
it  must  have  had  a  Divine  Cause.  But  I  hold  that  the  third, 
more  frequently  called  the  Teleological,  the  argument  from 
design,  is  conclusive  if  properly  stated.  Kant  can  not  ac- 
knowledge its  validity,  simply  because  it  imphes  the  prin- 
ciple of  cause  and  effect,  which  he  regards  as  applying  only 
to  appearances,  and  having  merely  a  subjective  value.  But 
when  we  hold"  that  the  things  in  the  world  are  real,  and 
discover  so  wonderful  an  adjustment  among  them  to  pro- 
duce a  good  end,  say  of  rays  of  light,  muscles,  coats  and 
humors,  cones  and  nerves  to  enable  us  to  see,  then  we  are 
entitled  to  argue  a  real  cause  in  a  designer,  whom  the  idea 


THE  PEACTICAL  EEASON.  235 

of  tlie  perfect  in  the  mind  constrains  us  to  clotlie  with 
infinity. 

The  objection  taken  to  all  this,  is  that  from  a  finite  effect, 
say  of  a  wonderful  combination  of  tilings  to  accomphsh  an 
end,  we  can  not  argue  an  infinite  cause.  I  believe  no  man 
ever  said  that  we  can.  All  that  the  design  proves  is  a  de- 
signer, and  it  is  from  the  idea  of  the  infinite  in  the  mind 
that  we  clothe  him  with  infinity,  just  as  it  is  from  our 
moral  nature,  as  Kant  admits,  that  we  clothe  him  with 
moral  perfection. 

The  Practical  Reason. 

The  part  of  the  Kantian  philosophy  which  is  the  strong- 
est and  healthiest  is  the  ethical,     l^o  writer  in  ancient  or 
modern  times  has  stood  up  more  resolutely  for  an  inde- 
pendent morality.     There  may,  he  thinks,  be  legitimate 
disputes  as  to  what  things  are,  and  the  speculative  reason 
may  lead  to  illusions,  but  the  moral  power  comes  in  to  save 
us  from  scepticism.      He  finds   here  a  moral  reason  by 
which  the  good  is  perceived,  not  as  a  phenomenon  by 
superimposed  forms,  but  directly.     This  reason  takes  the 
form  of  a  Categorical  Imperative,  which  seems  to  me  a  most 
admirable  designation,  bringing  into  view  at  one  and  the 
same  time  the  affirmative  and  obligatory  character  of  mo- 
rality.    The  law  which  it  sanctions  is  a  modification  of  the 
supreme  ethical  law  laid  down  by  our  Lord,  and  is :  Act 
according  to  a  rule  applicable  to  all  intelligences.     Thia 
imphes  that  man  is  free  and  responsible,  and  as  a  corol- 
lary,  that  he  is  responsible,  that  there  is  a  judgment  day 
and  a  future  life,  and  a  God  to  guarantee  the  whole.    Mo- 
rality,  immortality,  and  God  are  thus  indissolubly  bound 
together. 

I  confess  I  should  like  to  have  this  whole  connected  ar- 
gument expressed  in  language  not  involving  any  peculiarly 


236     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY.       x 

Kantian  phraseology  and  principles.  In  particular,  great 
good  would  be  done  by  a  psychological  accoant  of  the 
Practical  Keason,  and  by  an  explanation  and  defence  of 
the  precise  nexus  between  the  moral  law  and  the  existence 
of  God.  This  is  eminently  needed  in  the  present  day,  when 
the  common  sentiment  is  sensitively  averse  to  the  nomen- 
clature and  abstractions  of  high  metaphysical  philosophy. 

It  was  argued  at  an  early  date  after  the  publication  of 
Kant's  great  work,  that  if  the  speculative  reason  may  de- 
ceive by  leading  us  into  illusions,  the  moral  reason  may  do 
the  same.  I  believe  that  the  phenomenal  and  illusory  prin- 
ciples of  the  Kritik  of  the  Pure  Eeason,  if  carried  out  in  a 
Kritik  of  the  Practical  Eeason  would  undermine  morality. 
It  seems  to  me  very  clear  that  we  must  proceed  on  the 
same  princij)les  in  expounding  intelligence  and  truth  as  we 
do  in  defending  morality.  I  am  convinced  that  the  prin- 
ciples of  his  ethics,  if  carried  into  the  region  of  the  specu- 
lative reason,  would  estabhsh  positive  truth,  without  illu- 
sions of  any  kind.  Surely  the  Practical  Keason,  according 
to  Kant,  has  a  power  of  intuition  :  it  at  once  perceives 
moral  good.  I  think  that  on  like  evidence  he  should  have 
called  in,  and  appealed  to,  certain  intuitions  of  intelligence 
which  look  at  things  and  guarantee  reality.  Had  he  done 
so,  we  should  have  had  as  firm  a  foundation  for  truth  as 
he  has  furnished  for  morality. 

I  beheve  that  Kant  has  substantially  estabhshed  his 
moral  positions.  They  can  not  be  assailed,  except  on 
grounds  which  Kant  himself  unfortunately  furnished. 
Kant  admitted,  in  fact  argued,  that  the  speculative  reason 
led  to  illusions;  indeed  to  contradictions,  on  the  supposition 
that  we  know  things,  and  then  brought  in  the  moral  reason 
to  bring  us  back  to  truth  and  certainty.  The  risk  in  all 
such  procedure  is,  that  those  led  into  the  slough  may  be 
caught  there  and  go  no  farther.     For  if  the  speculative 


THE  PEACTICAL  EEASOJST.  237 

reason  may  gender  illusions,  what  reason  have  we  for  think- 
ing that  the  practical  reason  gives  us  only  truth  ?  I  do  not 
admire  the  wisdom  of  those  who  first  make  men  infidels  in 
order  to  shut  them  into  truth — as  they  feel  the  blankness  of 
nihihsm.- 

It  was  in  mockery  that  Hume,  after  showing  that  reason 
leads  into  contradictions,  allowed  religious  men  to  appeal 
to  faith.  There  was  far  less  sln-ewdness  shown  by  those 
philosophers  in  the  age  following,  who,  after  allowing  that 
the  intellect  leads  to  scepticism,  fell  back  with  Jacobi  and 
Eousseau  (who  was  a  favorite  with  Kant)  on  an  ill-defined 
faith  or  feehng.  The  .pursuing  hound  which  had  caught 
and  torn  to  pieces  the  understanding,  having  tasted  blood, 
became  more  infm^iated,  and  went  on  to  attack  and  devour 
the  belief  or  sentiment.  It  is  of  vast  moment,  both  logi- 
cally and  practically,  to  uphold  the  reason  in  discovering 
truth,  if  we  would  defend  the  reason  in  discovering  the 
good.  I  deny  that  the  reason  ever  lands  us  in  contradic- 
tions or  leads  into  error  or  even  illusion.  In  the  antinomies 
the  mistakes  are  all  in  our  own  statements,  and  not  in  the 
dictates  of  our  nature.  The  intellect  does  not  lead  to  all 
truth,  but  if  properly  guided  it  conducts  to  a  certain 
amount  of  truth,  clear,  well  established,  and  sure.  Begin- 
ning with  realities,  it  adds  to  these  indefinitely  by  induc- 
tion and  by  thought.  The  speculative  reason  properly 
employed,  so  far  from  conflicting  with  and  weakening 
moral  reason,  confirms  and  strengthens  it. 

Proceeding  in  our  inductive  method,  with  criticism 
merely  as  a  subordinate  means,  we  keep  clear  of  that 
heresy  into  which  the  Kantians  have  fallen  of  making  a 
schism  in  the  body — which  in  this  case  is  not  the  church, 
but  the  mind.  I  can  not  allow  that  one  part  or  organ  of 
our  nature  leads  to  error,  and  another  to  truth.  I  hope  we 
have  done  with  that  style  of  sentiment,  so  common  an  age 


$^38     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHT. 

or  two  ago,  wliicli  lamented  in  so  weakly  a  manner,  often 
with  a  vast  amount  of  affectation,  that  reason  led  to  scepti- 
cism, from  which  we  are  saved  by  faith,  and  which  was 
greatly  strengthened  by  Kant's  doctrine  of  the  practical 
reason  coming  in  to  counteract  the  illusion  of  the  speculative 
reason.  The  account  I  have  given  above  makes  every  part 
of  our  nature  correspond  to  and  conspire  with  every  other. 
It  does  more — it  makes  every  faculty  of  the  mind  yield  its 
testimony  to  its  Divine  author.  The  understanding  collat- 
ing the  facts  in  nature  and  observing  the  collocations  therein, 
and  proceeding  on  its  own  inherent  law  of  cause  and  effect, 
which  I  represent  as  having  an  objective  value,  furnishes  the 
argument  from  design  for  God's  existence.  Then  our  moral 
nature  comes  in,  and  reveals  a  law  above  us  and  binding  on 
us,  and  clothes  the  intelligence  which  we  have  discovered 
with  love.  I  admit  that  the  finite  works  of  God  do  not 
prove  God  to  be  infinite.  I  repeat,  no  one  ever  said  that 
they  did.  But  this  circumstance  has  made  Kant  and  his 
school  insist  that  thereby  the  theistic  argument  is  made  in- 
valid. But  as  we  call  in  our  moral  natm^e  to  clothe  God 
with  rectitude,  so  we  call  in  that  idea  of  the  infinite,  the 
perfect,  which  the  mind  has,  and  which  was  fondly  dwelt 
on  by  Anselm,  Descartes,  and  Leibnitz,  to  clothe  him  with 
infinity.  Our  nature  is  thus  a  harmoniously  constructed 
instrument,  raising  a  hjnnn  to  its  Creator. 

The  Keitik  or  the  Judging  Faculty. 

Kant  brings  in  this  power  (Urtheilskraf  t)  in  a  very  awk- 
ward manner.  He  had  previously  spoken  of  Judgment  in 
the  ordinary  logical  sense,  and  shown  that  it  is  regulated 
by  Categories.  He  now  brings  in  an  entirely  different 
kind  of  Judgment.  Its  ofiice  is  to  mediate  between  the 
Beason  and  the  Understanding,  as  if  they  had  had  a  quar- 
rel.    It  is  brought  in  to  fill  up  a  gap,  not  in  the  mind,  but 


COMPAEED   WITH  SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY.        239 

in  Ms  system,  which  had  overlooked  certain  very  prominent 
exercises  of  the  soul.  It  is  one  of  the  abutments  which  he 
is  ever  adding  to  enable  him  to  give  a  place  to  all  the  men- 
tal phenomena  and  to  support  his  edifice.  In  this  work  he 
treats  of  Final  Cause  and  Beauty  in  nature.  He  advances 
some  views  as  true  as  they  are  beautiful.  I  do  not  mean 
to  criticise  his  theories,  as  they  form  no  essential  part  of 
his  philosophy.  He  foUows  his  old  tendencies  and  makes 
final  cause  and  beauty  to  be  imposed  on  objects  by  the 
mind.  The  true  account  is  that  they  imply  qualities  in  the 
objects  which  the  mind  perceives.' 

Having  taken  this  general  critical  survey  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  Kant,  it  may  serve  a  good  purpose  to  compare  and 
contrast  it  with  the  Scottish.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  and 
Dr.  Chalmers,  who  were  trained  in  the  Scottish  school, 
upon  becoming  somewhat  acquainted  in  mature  life  with 
the  German  system,  were  greatly  interested  to  notice  the 
points  of  resemblance  between  the  two  philosophies.  The 
two — the  Scotch  and  the  German — agree,  and  they  differ. 
Each  has  a  fitting  representative  :  the  one  in  Thomas  Reid 
and  the  other  in  Immanuel  Kant.  The  one  was  a  careful 
observer,  guided  by  common  sense — with  the  meaning  of 
good  sense — suspicious  of  high  speculations  as  sure  to  have 
error  lurking  in  them,  and  shrinking  from  extreme  posi- 
tions ;  the  other  was  a  powerful  logician,  a  great  organizer 
and  systematizer,  following  liis  principles  to  their  conse- 
quences, which  he  was  ever  ready  to  accept,  avow,  and  pro- 
claim. The  two  have  very  important  points  of  agreement. 
Reid  and  Kant  both  lived  to  oppose  Hume,  the  great  scep- 
tic, or,  as  he  would  be  called  in  the  present  day,  agnostic. 

*  I  may  state  that  I  have  expounded  my  views  of  Final  Cause  in  No. 
IT.  of  this  Series,  and  of  Beauty  in  TTie  Emotions,  B.  III.,  c.  3. 


240    A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Both  met  him  by  calling  in  great  mental  principles,  which 
reveal  and  guarantee  truth,  wliich  can  never  be  set  aside, 
and  which  have  foundations  deep  as  the  universe.  Both 
appeal  to  reason,  which  Reid  called  reason  in  the  first  de- 
gree, and  the  other  pure  reason.  The  one  presents  this 
reason  to  us  under  the  name  of  common  sense — that  is,  the 
powers  of  intelligence  common  to  all  men ;  the  other,  as 
principles  necessary  and  universal.  The  one  pointed  to 
laws,  native  and  fundamental ;  the  other,  to  forms  in  the 
mind.  The  one  carefully  observed  these  by  consciousness, 
and  sought  to  unfold  their  nature ;  the  other  determined 
their  existence  by  a  criticism,  and  professes  to  give  an  in- 
ventory of  them.  All  students  should  note  these  agree- 
ments as  confirmatory  of  the  truth  in  both. 

The  Scotch  and  German  people  do  so  far  agree,  while 
they  also  differ.  Both  have  a  considerable  amount  of 
broad  sense,  and,  I  may  add,  of  humor ;  but  the  Scotch 
have  greater  clearness  of  thinking,  and  the  Germans  of  at- 
tractive idealism.  Scotland  and  Germany,  in  the  opinion 
of  foreigners,  are  not  very  far  distant  from  each  other. 
But  between  them  there  roars  an  ocean  which  is  often  very 
stormy.  I  proceed  to  specify  the  differences  of  the  two 
philosophies. 

First,  they  differ  in  their  Method.  The  Scotch  follows 
the  Inductive  Method  as  I  have  endeavored  to  explain  it. 
The  German  has  created  and  carried  out  the  Critical 
Method,  which  has  never  been  very  clearly  explained  and 
examined.  It  maintains  that  things. are  not  to  be  accepted 
as  they  appear  ;  they  are  to  be  searched  and  sifted.  Pure 
reason,  accordin'g  to  Kant,  can  criticise  itself.  But  every 
criticism  ought  to  have  some  principles,  on  which  it  pro- 
ceeds. Kant,  a  professor  of  Logic,  fortunately  adopted  the 
forms  of  Logio^  which  I  can  show  had  been  carefully  in- 
ducted by  Aristotle,  and  hence  has  reached  much  truth. 


COMPAEED   WITH   SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY.         241 

Others  have  adopted  other  principles,  and  have  reached 
very  different  conchisions.  The  philosophies  that  have  fol- 
lowed that  of  Kant  in  Germany  have  been  a  series  of  criti- 
cisms, each  speculator  setting  out  with  his  own  favorite 
principle, — say  with  the  universal  ego^  or  intuition,  or  iden- 
tity, or  the  absolute, — and,  carrying  it  out  to  its  conse- 
quences, it  has  become  so  inextricably  entangled,  that  the 
cry  among  young  men  is,  "  Out  of  this  forest,  and  back  to 
the  clearer  ground  occupied  by  Kant."  The  Scottish  phi- 
losophy has  not  been  able  to  form  such  lofty  speculations  as 
the  Germans,  but  the  soberer  inductions  it  has  made  may 
contain  quite  as  much  truth. 

Secondly,  the  one  starts  with  facts,  internal  and  external, 
revealed  by  the  senses,  inner  and  outer.  It  does  not  pro- 
fess to  prove  these  by  mediate  reasoning :  it  assumes  them, 
and  shows  that  it  is  entitled  to  assume  them ;  it  declares 
them  to  be  self-evident.  The  other,  the  German  school, 
starts  with  phenomena — not  meaning  facts  to  be  explained 
(as  physicists  understand  the  phrase),  but  appearances.  The 
phrase  was  subtilely  introduced  by  Hume,  and  was  unfor- 
tunately accepted  by  Kant.  Let  us,  he  said,  or  at  least 
thought,  accept,  what  Hume  grants,  phenomena,  and  guard 
the  truth  by  mental  forms — forms  of  sense,  understanding, 
and  reason.  Our  knowledge  of  bodies  and  their  actions, 
our  knowledge  even  of  our  minds  and  their  operations,  is 
phenomenal.  Having  assumed  only  phenomena,  he  never 
could  rise  to  anything  else.  Having  only  phenomena  in 
his  premises  he  never  could  reach  realities  in  his  conclu- 
sions except  by  a  palpable  paralogism,  which  he  himself 
saw  and  acknowledged.  "We  human  beings  are  phenomena 
in  a  world  of  phenomena.  This  doctrine  has  culminated 
in  the  unknown  and  unknowable  of  Herbert  Spencer,  im- 
plying no  doubt  a  known,  but  which  never  can  be  known 
by  us,     "We  all  know  that  Locke,  though  himself  a  most 


242     A  CRITICISM  OF  THE   CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

determined  realist,  laid  down  principles  which  led  logically 
to  the  ideahsm  of  Berkeley.  In  like  manner,  Kant,  though 
certainly  no  agnostic,  has  laid  down  a  principle  in  his  phe- 
nomenal theory  which  has  terminated  logically  in  agnosti- 
cism. We  meet  all  this  by  showing  that  appearances 
properly  understood  are  things  appearing,  and  not  appear- 
ances without  things. 

Thirdly,  the  two  differ  in  that  the  one  supposes  that  our 
perceptive  powers  reveal  to  us  things  as  they  are,  whereas 
the  other  supposes  that  they  add  to  things.  According  to 
Keid  and  the  Scottish  scliool,  our  consciousness  and  our 
senses  look  at  once  on  real  things ;  not  discovering 
all  that  is  in  them,  but  perceiving  them  under  the 
aspect  in  which  they  are  presented — say  this  table  as  a 
colored  surface  perceived  by  a  perceiving  mind.  Ac- 
cording to  Kant  and  the  German  school,  the  mind  adds 
to  the  things  by  its  own  forms.  Kant  said  we  perceive  ap- 
pearances under  the  forms  of  space  and  time  superimposed 
by  the  mind,  and  judge  by  categories,  and  reach  higher 
truth  by  ideas  of  pure  reason,  all  of  them  subjective. 
Ficlite  gave  consistency  to  the  whole  by  making  these  same 
forms  create  things. 

Our  thinking  youth  in  the  English  and  French  speaking 
countries  having  no  very  influential  philosophy  at  this 
present  time,  and  no  names  to  rule  them,  are  taking  long- 
ing looks  towards  Germany.  When  circumstances  admit, 
they  go  a  year  or  two  to  a  German  university — to  Berlin 
or  to  Leipsic.  There  they  get  into  a  labyrinth  of  showy 
and  binding  forms,  and  have  to  go  on  in  the  paths  opened 
to  them.  They  return  with  an  imposing  nomenclature, 
and  clothed  with  an  armor  formidable  as  the  panoply  of 
the  middle  ages.  They  write  papers  and  deliver  lectures 
which  are  read  and  hstened  to  with  the  profoundest  rever- 
ence— some,  however,  doubting  whether  all  these  distinctions 


VIEW  TO  BE  TAKEN  OF  IT.  243 

are  as  correct  as  they  are  subtle,  whether  these  speculations 
are  as  sound  as  they  are  imposing.  All  students  may  get 
immeasurable  good  from  the  study  of  the  German  philoso- 
phy. I  encom-age  my  students  to  go  to  Germany  for  a 
time  to  -study.  But  let  them  meanwhile  maintain  their  in- 
dependence. They  may  be  the  better  of  a  clew  to  help 
them  out  of  the  labyrinth  when  they  are  wandering.  The 
children  of  Israel  got  vast  good  in  the  wilderness  as  they 
wandered :  saw  wonders  in  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire,  in 
the  waters  issuing  from  the  rock,  and  the  manna  on  the 
ground ;  but  they  longed  all  the  while  to  get  into  a  land 
of  rest,  with  green  fields  and  living  rivers.  "We  may  all 
get  incalculable  good  from  German  speculation,  but  let  us 
bring  it  all  ,to  the  standard  of  consciousness  and  of  fact, 
which  alone  can  give  us  security  and  rest. 

I  am  quite  aware  that  a  large  body  of  speculators  will 
look  down  with  contempt  on  the  sober  views  I  have  been 
expounding,  and  not  think  it  worth  their  while  to  examine 
them.  Metaphysical  youths  from  Britain  and  America, 
who  have  passed  a  year  or  two  at  a  German  university,  and 
have  there  been  listening  to  lectures  in  which  the  speak- 
er passed  along  so  easily,  and  without  allowing  a  word 
of  cross-examination,  such  phrases  as  subject  and  object, 
form  and  matter,  d  priori  and  d  posteriori^  real  and 
ideal,  phenomenon  and  noumenon,  will  wonder  that  any 
one  should  be  satisfied  to  stay  on  such  low  ground  as  I  have 
done,  while  they  themselves  are  on  such  elevated  heights. 
But  I  can  bear  their  superciliousness  wdthout  losing  my 
temper,  and  I  make  no  other  retort  than  that  of  Kant  on 
one  occasion,  "that  their  master  is  milking  the  he-goat 
while  they  are  holding  the  sieve."  I  am  sm^e  that  the 
agnostics,  whether  of  the  philosophical  or  physiological 
schools,  will  resent  my  attempt  to  give  knowledge  so  firm 
a  foundation.     I  may  not  have  influence  myself  to   stop 


244    A   CEITICISM   OF   THE   CEITICAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  crowd  wliicli  is  moving  on  so  exultingly ;  I  may  be 
thrown  down  by  the  advancing  cavalcade ;  but  I  am  sure  I 
see  the  right  road  to  which  men  will  have  to  return  sooner 
or  later ;  and  I  am  satisfied  if  only  I  have  opened  a  gate 
ready  for  those  who  come  to  discover  that  the  end  of  their 
present  broad  path  is  darkness  and  nihilism. 

Some  good  ends  may  be  served  by  explaining  here  those 
correlative  phrases  which  are  passed  on  so  readily  in  Ger- 
man metaphysics,  but  under  which  the  errors  I  have  been 
exposing  lurk.  By  Real  is  meant  a  thing  existing;  by 
Ideal  what  is  created  by  the  mind.  Sttbject  signifies  the 
mind  contemplating  a  thing ;  Ohject  a  thing  contemplated. 
This  distinction  does  not  imply  that  the  subject  adds  to 
the  object  what  is  not  in  it.  When  the  two  plirases  are 
together  they  should  be  used  as  correlative.  In  common 
language  the  phrase  Olject  is  often  employed  to  denote  a 
thing,  whether  it  be  contemplated  by  the  mind  or  not.  In 
this  latter  sense  subject  does  not  imply  an  object,  nor  ob- 
ject a  subject.  Phenomenon  in  science  means  a  fact  to  be 
explained.  In  German  philosophy  it  means  a  mere  ap- 
pearance which  is  an  abstraction.  The  mind  is  conscious 
not  of  an  appearance,  but  of  a  thing  appearing.  By  iVbi^ 
menon  is  meant  a  thing  known  or  apprehended,  which 
Kant  regards  as  unknowable  by  human  intelligence.  But 
in  our  realistic  philosophy  we  claim  to  know  things  which 
in  that  sense  are  noumena.  By  a  Priori  is  meant  the 
regulative  principles  which  are  in  the  mind  prior  to  expe 
rience ;  but  this  does  not  imply  that  there  are  ideas  in  the 
mind  prior  to,  experience.  •  By  a  Posteriori  is  signified 
truth  obtained  by  a  gathered  or  inductive  (not  an.  in  di- 
vidual) experience.  Form  and  Matter  are  such  metaphor- 
ical phrases  that  they  might  be  expediently  abandoned  in 
philosophy.  By  Form,  in  German  metaphysics  is  denoted 
something  imposed  by  the  mind  on  things ;  by  Matter  the 


HIS  IDEALISM.  245 

things,  commonly  unknown,  on  which  the  Form  is  im- 
posed. If  the  terms  are  to  be  retained,  by  Form  should 
be  meant  the  law  bj  which  things  act,  Matter  the  things 
as  obeying  the  law.  All  these  phrases  as  commonly  used 
in  metaphysics  have  an  ideal  tendency. 

IDEALISM  in  thought  and  language  runs  through  and 
through  the  philosophy  of  Kant.  It  appears  first  in  making 
the  mind  give  a  unity  to  the  manifold  perceived  by  the 
senses,  say  to  a  stone,  whereas  the  unity  is  in  the  stone  itself. 
Secondly,  it  supposes  space  and  time  not  to  be  tilings,  but  to 
be  forms  superinduced  on  things.  Thirdly,  the  relations 
between  objects  are  imposed  on  them  by  the  Categories  of 
the  understanding.  Fourthly,  substance,  interdependence  of 
things,  and  God  himself  are  regarded  as  ideas  without  a 
real  objective  existence.  Fifthly,  Final  cause  and  beauty 
are  a  mere  halo  cast  around  things  by  the  imagination. 

It  has  been  shown  again  and  again  how,  according  to 
the  doctrine  of  development,  which  can  be  traced  in  the 
history  of  philosophy  as  well  as  in  the  natural  sciences,  Fichte 
was  evolved  from  Kant,  and  ScheUing  from  Fichte,  and 
Hegel  from  ScheUing.  Kant  made  the  mind  create  space 
and  time,  and  aU  the  forms  imposed  on  things ;  Fichte, 
who  was  a  pupil  of  Kant  at  one  time,  following  out  his 
principles,  made  the  mind  also — ^greatly  to  the  annoyance  of 
Kant,  who  disowned  his  disciple — to  create  the  things  in 
space  and  time.  It  was  felt  that  Fichte's  egoistic  theory 
left  out  one  side  of  the  actual  world,  and  many  rejoiced 
that  ScheUing  took  up  the  other  side,  making  the  two 
halves  one  in  a  doctrine  of  absolute  identity.  In  the  con- 
struction of  his  theory,  he  and  those  swayed  by  him  (for 
example.  Principal  Shairp)  pointed  out  many  beautiful  cor- 
respondences between  the  subjective  mind  and  the  actual 
world.  But  the  system  of  ScheUing  was  so  evidently  vision- 
ary, and  apparently  pantheistic,  that  a  demand  was  made  to 


240    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

liave  it  sliown  that  the  prevaiKng  ideahsm  has  a  ground  in 
reason ;  and  this  was  the  work  of  Hegel. 

At  more  than  one  period  of  my  life  I  have  toiled  hard 
to  master  the  system  of  Hegel.  But  I  have  failed,  and  am 
wilKng  to  acknowledge  it.  On  a  very  few  occasions  I  have 
ventured  to  criticise  the  great  thinker — as  he  is  reckoned ; 
but  I  was  told  instantly  that  I  did  not  understand  him,  and 
I  was  restrained  from  prosecuting  the  controversy  by  the 
possibility  that  this  might  be  true.  It  was  at  one  time  re- 
ported that  Hegel  had  said,  that  "  no  man  understands 
me  but  one,  and  he  does  not  understand  me."  This  is  now 
denied.  But  as  it  is  said  of  Shakespeare's  pictures  of 
Henry  Y.  and  the  English  kings,  that  if  not  true  they 
might  have  been  true ;  so  it  may  be,  that  if  this  story  about 
Hegel  is  not  true  it  might  have  been  true.  His  system 
seems  to  me  to  be  beyond  measure  unnatural,  and  artificial. 
His  constant  threefold  divisions  which  in  the  end  he  iden- 
tifies with  the  threefold  distinctions  of  the  Divine  nature, 
might  be  carried  on  as  far  as  speculative  intellect  sees  fit  to 
prosecute  it,  but  with  no  correspondence  in  things  external 
or  internal.  IS^o  two  of  his  followers  understand  him  ahke, 
and  each  charges  his  neighbor  with  misinterpreting  him. 
Scarcely  any  of  them  do  now  profess  to  beheve  in  his 
system  throughout ;  but  they  adhere  to  his  dialectic  method 
and  expect  that  what  he  has  left  incomplete  may  be  fin- 
ished by  themselves  or  others.  To  me  a  number  of  his 
favorite  maxims,  as  that  Being  and  ]^ot  Being  are  identical, 
that  Being  and  Thinking  are  the ,  same,  and  that  contra- 
dictories may  be  true,  seem  to  me  to  be  a  reductio  ad 
absurdum  of  'the  whole  system.  It  has  been  my  aim  in 
this  paper  to  undermine  the  Kantian  principles  on  which 
the  whole  fabric  has  been  reared. 

I  am  awar^  that  many  revel  with  intense  pleasure  in 
idealism.   I  believe  that  aU  minds  may  be  elevated  by  cer- 


AGNOSTICISM.  247 

tain  forms  of  it.  The  great  constellation  of  genius — in- 
cluding Herder,  Schiller,  and  Goethe,  with  those  poets 
influenced  by  them  in  Great  Britain,  which  appeared  at 
the  end  of  last  century  and  the  beginning  of  this,  got  a 
portion  of  their  hght  and  power  from  the  subjective 
German  philosophy.  But  to  keep  ourselves  steady  in 
the  flight  of  the  imagination,  let  us  have  a  clear  per- 
ception of  the  difference  between  the  ideal  and  the  real. 
When  we  rise  to  the  ideal  let  it  ever  be  from  the  real,  to 
which  we  should  always  return  for  stability  and  rest.  It  is 
good  for  us  to  ascend  from  time  to  time  our  great  moun- 
tains, and  we  may  thereby  get  life  and  health  as  well  as  a 
larger  prospect ;  but  it  might  not  be  so  good  always  to  dwell 
on  these  heights  which  may  become  over-stimulating  and 
dizzying.  The  mind  has  the  capacity  of  imagination,  which 
is  a  very  lofty  one,  but  it  has  also  a  power  of  judgment, 
meant  to  steady  the  flights  of  the  fancy.  We  all  wish  to 
see  pictures  of  high  ideal  scenes,  but  we  do  not  regard  these 
as  realities — we  distinguish  between  portraits  and  historical 
paintings.    Let  us  clearly  see  that  poetry  is  not  philosophy. 

AGIN'OSTICISM.— It  is  proverbial  that  extremes  meet- 
just  as  West  and  East  meet  at  lines  on  our  globe.  Strange  as 
it  may  seem,  while  there  is  idealism  throughout  Kant,  ag- 
nosticism has  also  its  roots  deep  in  his  philosophy.  It 
maintains  resolutely — I  believe  without  sufiicient  proof-^ 
that  there  are  things,  but  it  makes  them  unknown  and  un' 
knowable.  Its  very  idealism,  regarded  as  a  philosophy, 
favors  nescience.  It  makes  a  large  portion  of  what  we 
naturally  believe,  to  be  phenomenal  and  illusory.  Follow- 
ing it  out  logically,  people  argue  that  if  the  mind  can  add 
one  quality  to  things  out  of  its  own  stores,  it  may  add  ten 
or  a  hundred,  till  at  last  we  can  not  tell  what  is  in  things, 
or  whether  there  are  any  things.     Hence  we  find  all  the 


248     A  CEITICISM  OF  THE  CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

positivists  and  agnostics,  and  even  tlie  materialists  of  the 
day,  when  pressed  by  their  adversaries  falling  back  on  the 
forms  and  ideas  of  Kant. 

"  Back  to  Kant "  is  the  cry  in  our  day  of  the  younger 
German  school,  re-echoed  by  the  speculative  youths  of  Eng- 
land and  America.  The  cry  is  a  healthy  symptom  on  the 
part  of  those  who  utter  it.  It  shows  that  they  are  becom- 
ing somewhat  anxious  as  to  where  recent  speculation  is 
leading  them ;  as  to  whether  it  is  carrying  them  up  into  an 
ethereal  region  where  they  have  difficulty  in  standing  or 
breathing,  or  dragging  them  down  into  a  swamp  where  the 
air  is  malarial  and  lethal. 

Yes,  1  say,  "Back  to  Kant,"  who  was  a  wiser  man,  and 
held  more  truth  than  those  who  have  been  following  out 
his  principles.  But  when  we  go  back  to  Kant,  let  it  not 
be  to  take  his  fundamental  positions  on  trust.  In  par- 
ticular, we  should,  I  think,  in  the  exercise  of  our  criticism 
abandon  his  critical  method.  If  this  is  not  done  we  shall 
have — as  we  have  had  for  the  last  hundred  years — a  succes- 
sion of  systems,  each  laying  hold  of  and  devouring  its  pred- 
ecessor. "We  may  cut  down  the  tree  to  its  roots,  but  if 
we  allow  the  roots  to  remain,  a  new  tree,  or  new  trees  of 
the  same  kind,  wiU  spring  up.  How  often  have  we  had  a 
new  philosophic  treatise  opening  with  the  statement :  "  At 
this  point  Kant  has  not  followed  certain  principles  to  their 
logical  consequences  ;  let  us  do  this  for  him."  Or,  "  Here 
is  a  principle  which  Kant  has  overlooked ;  let  us  introduce 
it  and  build  it  into  the  system." 

For  the  present  there  is  a  reaction  against  the  building 
of  new  systems  of  philosophy.  The  world  has  become 
weary  of  them.  The  tendency  now  rather  is,  in  the  lec- 
tures of  the  German  universities,  and  in  the  books  written 
in  the  English  language,  to  give  us  histories  of  the  opinions 
held  in  the  past ;  and  we  have  thereby  been  gainers,  as  at- 


BACK  TO   KANT.  249 

tention  has  been  called  to  tlie  truth  to  be  found  in  all  our 
higher  philosophies  from  the  time  of  Plato  and  Aristotle 
in  ancient  times,  and  that  of  Descartes  and  Locke  in  later 
times ;  and  at  the  same  time  to  the  errors  both  of  an  ex- 
travagant dogmatism  and  of  a  low  empiricism,  which  it  is 
hoped  may  be  kept  from  ever  appearing  again  by  the  way 
in  which  they  have  been  exposed. 

Yes,  "  Back  to  Kant,"  but  do  not  stop  there.  Back  to 
Eeid  with  Hamilton,  back  to  Locke,  back  to  Leibnitz,  back 
to  Descartes,  back  to  Bacon,  back  to  Saint  Thomas  and  Abe- 
lard,  back  to  Augustine,  back  to  Marcus  Aurelius,  back  to  Ci- 
cero, back  to  Aristotle,  back  to  Plato.  All  these  have  taught 
much  truth  ;  let  us  covet  the  best  gifts  and  accept  them  wher- 
ever they  are  offered:  in  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  in 
Germany,  in  France  and  Italy,  in  Great  Britain  and  Amer- 
ica. Here  the  method  of  induction  with  criticism  may 
guide  us  in  the  selection — may  give  us  the  magnet  where- 
with to  draw  out  the  genuine  steel  from  the  dross  mixture. 

"  Back  to  Kant,"  but  back  beyond  him  to  what  he  looked 
to,  or  should  have  looked  to,  and  by  which  his  views  and 
ours  are  to  be  tested,  to  the  facts  of  our  mental  nature.^ 

'  I  should  be  sorry  to  find  our  young  American  thinkers  spending 
their  whole  time  and  strength  in  expounding  Kant  or  Hegel.  Depend 
upon  it,  the  German  philosophy  will  not  be  transplanted  into  America 
and  grow  healthily  till  there  is  a  change  to  suit  it  to  the  climate.  By 
all  means  let  us  welcome  the  German  philosophy  into  this  country,  as 
we  do  the  German  emigrants  ;  but  these  emigrants  when  they  come  , 
have  to  learn  our  language  and  accommodate  themselves  to  our  laws 
and  customs.  Let  us  subject  its  philosophy  to  a  like  process.  Let  it 
be  the  same  with  the  Scottish  philosophy  :  let  us  take  all  that  is  good 
in  it  and  nothing  else,  and  what  is  good  in  it  is  its  method. 

I  have  rather  been  advising  our  young  men  not  to  seek  to  transplant 
the  German  philosophy  entire  into  America.  But  as  little  do  I  wish 
them  to  transplant  the  Scottish  philosophy.  It  is  time  that  America 
had  a  philosophy  of  its  own.  It  is  now  getting  a  literature  of  its  own, 
a  poetry  of  its  own,  schools  of  painting  of  its  own  ;  let  it  also  have  a 


250     A   CRITICISM   OF  THE   CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Of  the  existing  philosophies  the  German  is  at  this 
present  time  the  most  powerful.  If  the  others,  if  the 
Scottish,  the  Enghsh,  the  French,  are  to  regain  their  in- 
fluence, they  will  have  to  strike  out  some  new  courses 
fitted  to  raise  enthusiasm,  and  hold  out  hope  of  discovery 
to  encourage  research^  They  may  study  the  dependence 
of  mind  on  body,  and  thereby  connect  their  inquiries 
with  the  science  of  the  day.  They  may  also  apply  psy- 
chology to  the  art  of  education,  and  show  how  the  mind  is 
to  be  trained.  But  whatever  else  they  do,  they  must  take 
up  and  enter  into  the  spirit  and  life  of  those  great  ques- 
tions which  have  been  discussed  in  philosophy  since  re- 
flective thought  began.  It  is  because  they  have  done 
this,  that  the  philosophy  of  Kant  and  the  Germans  has 
been  found  so  attractive  to  inquiring  youths.  Let  us  notice 
and  ponder  the  grand  truths  which  have  thus  been  brought 
before  us,  but  let  it  be  to  give  a  clear  account  of  their 
nature  and  separate  them  from  the  error  Avith  which  they 
have  been  combined.     Let  us  beheve   and  acknowledge 


philosophy  of  its  own.  It  should  not  seek,  indeed,  to  be  independent 
of  European  thought.  The  people,  whether  they  will  or  not,  whether 
they  acknowledge  it  or  no,  are  evidently  the  descendants  of  Europeans, 
to  whom  they  owe  much.  They  have  come  from  various  countries, 
but  on  coming  here  they  take  a  character  of  their  own.  So  let  it  be 
with  our  philosophy.  It  may  be  a  Scoto-German- American  school. 
It  migJit  take  the  method  of  the  Scotch,  the  high  truths  of  the  Ger^ 
man,  and  combine  them  by  the  practical  invention  of  the  Americans. 
.But  no :  let  it  in  fact,  in  name  and  profession,  be  an  independent 
school.  As  becometh  the  country,  it  may  take,  not  a  monarchical  form 
under  one  sovereign,  like  the  European  systems,  let  it  rather  be  a  re 
publican  institution,  with  separate  states  and  a  central  unity.  To 
accomplish  this,  let  it  not  be  contented  with  the  streams  which  have 
lost  their  coolness  from  the  long  course  pursued  and  become  polluted 
by  earthly  ingredients,  but  go  at  once  to  the  fountain,  the  mind  itself, 
which  is  as  fresh "t^s  it  ever  was,  and  as  open  to  us  as  it  was  to  Plato 
and  Aristotle,  to  Locke  and  Reid,  to  Kant  and  Hamilton, 


THE  TEUTH  IN  ALL   PHILOSOPHIES.  251 

with  Plato,  that  there  is  a  grand,  indeed  a  divine  Idea, 
formed  in  our  minds  after  the  image  of  God  and  pervading 
all  nature ;  but  let  that  idea  be  carefully  examined  and  its 
forms  exactly  determined ;  and  it  is  for  inductive  science, 
and  not  speculation,  to  ascertain  what  are  the  laws  and 
tj^es  which  represent  it  in  nature.  We  should  hold  with 
Aristotle  that  there  are  formal  and  final  as  well  as  material 
and  efficient  causes  in  our  world ;  but  it  is  for  careful  observa- 
tion to  find  out  the  nature  and  relation  of  these,  and  to  show 
how  matter  and  force  are  made  to  work  for  order  and  for 
special  ends.  We  may  be  as  sure  as  Anselm  and  Descartes, 
that  in  the  mind  there  is  the  germ  of  the  idea  of  the  infinite 
and  the  perfect ;  but  we  should  claim  the  right  to  show 
what  the  idea  is,  so  as  to  keep  men  from  drawing  ex- 
travagant inferences  from  it.  Let  us  see  as  Leibnitz  did 
a  pre-estabhshed  harmony  in  nature ;  but  we  may  argue 
that  it  consists  not  in  things  acting  independently  of  each 
other,  but  in  their  being  made  to  act  on  and  with  each 
other.  We  can  not  err  in  attaching  as  much  importance 
to  experience  as  Locke  did;  but  let  us  maintain  all  the 
while  that  observation  shows  us  principles  in  the  mind 
prior  to  all  experience.  We  should  be  grateful  to  the  Scot- 
tish school  for  using  principles  of  common  sense  and  fun- 
damental laws  of  behef ;  but  we  should  require  them  to 
show  how  these  are  related  to  experience.  We  may  allow 
to  Kant  his  forms,  his  categories,  and  his  ideas ;  but  let  us 
determine  their  nature  by  induction  when  it  may  be  found 
that  they  do  not  superinduce  qualities  on  things,  but  simply 
enable  us  to  perceive  what  is  in  things.  I  believe  with 
Schelling  in  intuition  (Anschauung) ;  but  it  is  an  intuition 
looking  to  reahties.  We  may  be  constrained  to  hold  with 
Hegel  that  there  is  an  absolute ;  and  yet  hold  firmly  that 
our  knowledge  is  after  all  finite,-  and  insist  that  the  doctrine 
be  so  enunciated  that  it  does  not  lead  to  pantheism.    We 


*>52    A  CEITICISM   OF  THE   CEITICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

should  reject  a  sensatioualism  which,  derives  all  our  ideas 
from  the  senses,  and  a  materialism  which  develops  mind 
out  of  molecules ;  and  yet  be  very  anxious  that  the  physi- 
ology of  the  nerves  and  brain  should  aid  us  in  finding  out 
the  way  in  which  the  powers  of  the  mind  operate.  I  turn 
away  with  detestation  from  the  pessimism  of  Schopenhauer 
and  Yon  Hartmann ;  but  they  have  done  good  by  calling 
the  attention  of  academic  men  to  the  existence  of  evil,  to 
remove  which  is  an  end  worthy  of  the  labors  and  suffer- 
ings of  the  Son  of  God.  We  may  believe  with  Herbert 
Spencer  that  there  is  a  vast  unknow^n  above,  beneath,  and 
around  us ;  but  we  may  rejoice  all  the  while  in  a  hght 
shining  in  the  darkness.  Let  us  receive  with  gratitude  the 
whole  cabinet  of  gems  which  our  higher  poets  have  left  as 
a  rich  inheritance  ;  but  before  they  can  constitute  a  philos- 
ophy they  must  be  cut  and  set  by  a  skilful  hand ;  and  this 
must  be  done  as  carefully  as  it  is  with  diamonds,  and  all 
to  show  forth  more  fully  their  form  and  beauty. 


IV 

HERBERT  SPENCER'S  PHILOSOPHY  AS 
CULMINATED  IN  HIS  ETHICS 


PART  FIRST, 


HIS  PHILOSOPHY. 


SECTION  I. 

THE  PHILOSOPHIES  WHICH    HAVE  INFLUENCED  MR.  SPENCER. 

The  house  which  Mr.  Spencer  has  built  is  a  very  impos- 
ing one.  He  has  been  engaged  for  a  great  many  years  in 
erecting  it.  He  has  reared  it  tier  upon  tier,  and  is  now 
putting  on  the  copestone.  Many  of  our  younger  men, 
especially  those  who  have  been  trained  to  look  upon  phys- 
ical science  as  the  main  if  not  the  only  branch  of  true 
knowledge,  have  the  most  perfect  confidence  in  its  stability, 
and  feel  safe  in  taking  up  their  abode  in  it.  Others,  older 
and  professedly  wiser,  think  they  discover  great  oversight 
in  the  erection,  and  point  to  fractures  and  rents  appearing 
as  it  settles. 

There  is  no  man  so  self-contained  as  not  to  be  influenced 
by  his  surroundings — as  Mr.  Spencer  calls  it,  his  environ- 
ment. We  read  of  the  Origines  Platonicse  and  that  the 
Homerus  Philosophorum,  though  one  of  the  most  original 
thinkers  that  ever  lived,  got  his  doctrine  of  the  fleeting 
nature  of  matter  from  Heraclitus,  of  the  permanence  of 
things  from  Parmenides  and  the  Eleatics,  and  his  grand 
ideal  theory  from  the  numbers  and  forms  of  Pythagoras. 


256  spencer's  philosophy. 

We  may  in  like  manner,  without  disparaging  Mr.  Spencer's 
independence,  discover  fountains  from  which  the  stream 
of  his  philosophy  has  arisen.  We  need  not  seek  these  far 
up  on  the  heights  of  antiquity,  for  which  he  has  not  much 
reverence.  We  find  them  in  men  who  lived  and  were 
honored  in  the  age  immediately  preceding  his  own. 

First,  he  drew  his  metaphysics,  that  is,  first  principles, 
from  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  Dr.  Mansel,  who  consti- 
tuted the  prime  constellation  in  the  heavens  when  the 
young  thinker,  at  that  time  an  engineer,  began  to  inquire 
into  the  mechanism  of  the  universe.  Hamilton,  in  this 
respect  swayed  by  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  argues  in  his 
Discussions  that  the  mind  knows  only  phenomena  in  the 
sense  of  appearances,  and  thus  landed  himself  in  the  con- 
clusion that  all  our  knowledge  is  relative,  and  that  we 
know  nothing  of  the  reality  or  nature  of  things.  "  All 
that  we  know  is  phsenomenal,  phsenomenal  of  the  unknown'' 
{Dis.j  p.  608).  Mansel  in  his  Bampton  Lectures  applied 
this  doctrine  to  the  defence  of  religion,  and  sought  to 
undermine  the  pillars  of  rationalism — not  foreseeing  that 
the  argument  which  overthrew  knowledge  would  soon  come 
to  be  directed  against  faith.  The  young  Spencer  took  up 
the  prevailing  philosophy  of  his  time,  and  carryingout  Ham- 
ilton's principles  of  relativity  and  nescience,  he  evolved  his 
unknown  and  unknowable,  which  he  allotted  as  a  grove  to 
religion. 

It  so  happened  that  when  Hamilton  published  his  Dis- 
cussions, I  was  just  issuing  a  new  edition  (the  fourth)  of  my 
work,  The  Method  of  the  Divine  Government,  and  I  felt 
it  to  be  my  duty  in  an  appended  note  to  oppose  what 
would  now  be  called  his  Agnosticism.  I-  predicted  that  the 
nescience  which  he  defended  would  lead  historically,  as  it 
led  logically,  tcL consequences  which  he  did  not  contemplate. 
He  wrote'  me  that  he  meant  to  reply,  but  soon  after  he 


PHILOSOPHIES  WHICH  INFLUENCED  ME.  SPENCER.  257 

was  oppressed  with  bodily  infirmity  which  prevented  this. 
When  JVIansel  published  his  Bampton  Lectures,  in  which 
he  applied  the  principles  of  Hamilton  to  the  overthrow  of 
rationalism,  I  reviewed  the  work  in  the  North  British 
Review  (1859),  and  showed  that  some  of  his  views  as  to 
the  relativity  of  knowledge  might  be  used  to  under- 
mine all  religious  truth.  In  these  circumstances  I  was 
not  surprised  when  Mr.  Spencer  drove  the  doctrine  of 
Hamilton  and  Mansel  to  its  logical  consequences,  and  made 
God  and  all  reality  unknowable.  In  a  private  correspond- 
ence which  I  had  with  Dr.  Mansel,  I  urged  him  to  reply 
to  Mr.  Spencer,  which,  however,  he  never  did.  Had  he 
done  so  he  might,  I  hoped,  though  I  scarcely  expected, 
have  so  explained  the  statements  of  Hamilton  as  to  show 
that  they  did  not  logically  issue  in  the  philosophy  of 
Spencer.  As  it  is,  the  latter  professes  to  proceed  on  the 
principles  of  the  Scottish  metaphysician  and  his  Oxford 
follower. 

Secondly,  Mr.  Spencer  received  an  impulse  from  the 
philosophy  of  M.  Comte.  He  started  as  a  thinker  when 
the  reputation  of  the  founder  of  Positivism  was  at  its 
greatest  height.  This  Frenchman  had  been  speculating 
profoundly,  as  he  thought,  in  his  PhilosojpJde  Positive  on 
the  order  and  progression  of  the  sciences.  He  holds  that 
we  may  expect,  first  of  all,  to  find  those  objects  scientifi- 
cally investigated  which  are  the  simplest,  the  least  compli- 
cated, and  the  laws  of  which  may  be  entertained  with  most 
ease  and  certainty,  such  as  the  relations  of  space  in  geome- 
try. He  supposes  that  science  would  then  go  on  to  the 
consideration  of  objects  more  concrete  and  complex,  rising 
to  astronomy,  and  thence,  in  order,  to  physics,  chemistry, 
physiology,  and  social  physics.  The  first  contemplates 
phenomena  the  most  general,  the  most  simple,  the  most 
abstract,  aiid  the  farthest  removed  from  humanity,  having 


258  spencer's  philosophy. 

an  influence  on  all  others  without  being  influenced  by 
them.  The  phenomena  considered  in  the  last,  are,  on  the 
contrary,  the  most  particular,  the  most  complicated,  the 
most  concrete,  and  the  most  directly  interesting  to  man ; 
they  depend  more  or  less  on  the  preceding  without  exercis- 
ing an  influence  on  them. 

Mr.  Spencer  does  not  adopt  this  theory.  He  has  started 
a  rival  one.  Comte  shows  how  the  sciences  advance ; 
Spencer  shows  how  nature  advances.  Both  make  the  pro- 
gression from  the  more  general  to  the  more  special.  When 
Comte  published  his  system  I  admitted  that  there  was 
truth  in  it  {Meth.  Div.  Gov.,  B.  ii.,  2),  but  denied  that  it  met 
all  the  development  and  classification  of  the  sciences.  Few 
people  now  adopt  without  modification  the  theory  of 
Comte.  Spencer  has  built  a  more  compact  structure.  He 
stands  up  for  a  transformation  of  the  homogeneous  into 
the  heterogeneous,  exhibited  in  the  universe  in  all,  or  nearly 
all,  its  details :  in  the  aggregate  of  stars  and  nebulae,  in  the 
planetary  system,  in  the  eartli  as  an  inorganic  body,  in  each 
organism  vegetable  or  animal  (Yon  Baer's  Law),  in  the  ag- 
gregate of  organisms  throughout  geologic  time,  in  the  mind, 
in  society,  in  all  products  of  social  activity.  This  theory 
will  fall  under  our  notice  at  a  later  stage.  It  w^ill  turn  out 
in  the  end  that  there  are  phenomena  which  modify  and 
limit  it.  Mr.  Spencer  cites  from  Comte  "  the  doctrine  that 
the  education  of  the  individuals  should  accord  in  mode  and 
arrangement  with  the  education  of  mankind  considered 
historically,"  and  agrees  with  him  in  holding  "  an  analogy 
between  an  individual  organism  and  a  social  organism,"  a 
doctrine,  I  may  add,  which  may  be  traced  back  to  Plato. 
Both  speak  of  altruism,  which  they  would  substitute  for 
love.  Both  begin  with  data  derived  from  material  science, 
and  think  thereby  to  account  for  mind  and  its  operations. 
Both  are  apt  to^  start  with  hypotheses  which  they  seek  to 


PHILOSOPHIES  WHICH  INFLUENCED  MR.  SPENCER.  259 

verify  by  an  accumulation  of  facts.  I  add  that  both  are  ad« 
dieted  to  overlook  facts  as  well  as  to  observe  facts.' 

Thirdly,  Mr.  Spencer  avowedly  owes  much  to  the  grand 
generalization  of  Yon  Baer,  as  to  there  being  an  advance 
in  the  vegetable  and  in  the  animal  kingdoms,  from  the 
more  general  to  the  more  special;  and  that  there  is  a 
parallelism  in  this  respect  between  the  growth  of  the  plant 
and  animal  from  their  seed  and  germ,  and  their  progression 
throughout  the  long  geological  ages.  Every  scientific  man 
was  struck  when  this  doctrine  was  first  aimounced  by  its 
author,  now  an  age  ago.  Mr.  Spencer  carries  out  this  prin- 
ciple legitimately  or  (and)  illegitimately  to  the  evolution  of 
the  universe  in  all  its  departments. 

Mr.  Spencer  has  no  claim  to  be  regarded  as  the  originator 
or  author  of  the  theory  of  development.  There  were  an- 
ticipations of  that  doctrine  in  ancient  times.  The  germs  of 
it  were  floating  through  the  air  when  Spencer  began  to 
think  on  these  subjects,  and  Darwin  was  preparing  to  make 
extensive  applications  of  it  to  brute  and  man.  But  Spencer 
is  the  organizer,  the  very  embodiment,  personification,  and 
expression  of  it ;  and  he  evolves  it  in  the  confidence  that  it, 
as  the  fittest,  will  survive  and  will  persist  as  a  force  till  it 
brings  all  environment  within  its  sphere. 

It  is  now  many  years  ago,  and  at  a  time  when  he  was  not 
known  so  extensively  as  he  is  now,  that  I  had  occasion  to 
publish  my  estimate  of  him  {Intuitions  of  the  Mind,  Part 
III.,  c.  i.  §  8).  "  His  bold  generalizations  are  always  instruc- 
tive, and  some  of  them  may  in  the  end  be  established  as  the 
profoundest  laws  of  the  universe."  I  find  that  the  Ameri- 
can publishers  of  his  works  have  been  using  this  testimony 
of  mine  in  their  advertisements,  and  I  have  no  objections 

^  This  is  my  judgment  on  the  somewhat  keen  controversy  between 
Mr.  Harrison  and  Mr.  Spencer.  Surely  people  may  now  see  that  what- 
ever Mr.  Harrison  may  be,  he  is  not  a  philosopher. 


260  spencer's  philosophy. 

that  they  continue  to  do  so.  But  it  is  proper  to  state  that  I 
represented  our  author  as  a  Titan  making  war  against  the 
gods  that  rule  in  Olympus,  to  which  he  seeks  to  rise  not  by 
slow  and  gradual  steps  but  by  heaping  Pel  ion  on  Pindus. 
His  system  of  science  and  philosophy  is  a  vast  structure, 
professedly  and  really,  with  broad  if  not  deep  foundations 
in  natural,  especially  biological  science,  and  towering  into 
jurisprudence  and  ethics.  This  is  its  excellence,  this  is  its 
defect. 


SECTION  n. 

HIS   METHOD    OF   PROCEDURE. 

Mr=  Spencer  commands  our  respect  by  his  terrible  ear- 
nestness. He  has  an  end  to  live  for,  and  he  lives  for  it. 
For  it  he  has  given  up  professional  pursuits  and  profits, 
and  for  years  immediate  fame  and  popularity.  For  tlie 
last  forty  years  a  grand  system  of  speculative  physics, 
founded  on  the  recent  discoveries  in  biology,  has  been  de- 
veloping in  his  brain,  and  he  riiust  put  it  into  shape;  he 
must  unfold  it  in  spite  of  obstacles,  with  or  without  en- 
couragement from  surroundings. 

We  have  seen  what  were  his  antecedents  and  stimuli. 
Let  us  now  view  him  using  his  "great  powers  to  accomplish 
his  end.  He  is  distinguished  for  two  very  marked  intel- 
lectual capacities.  He  has  an  unsurpassed  aptitude  for 
comparison  and  generalization.  He  can  detect  remote 
analogies  and  put  great  varieties  of  things  into  a  few  com- 
prehensive groups.  Present  any  natural  object,  and  he  will 
at,  once  allot  to  it  its  place  in  the  system  of  things.  He  has 
also  a  strong  tendency  to  trace  effects  to  their  causes,  back 
to  their  origin^n  the  unknown.  Call  his  attention  to  a  fact 
and  he  will  show  you  how  it  has  been  evolved.     As  a  result 


HIS  METHOD   OF   PROCEDUKE.  261 

of  all  this  there  is  a  comprehensiveness,  real  or  apparent,  in 
all  his  speculations  which  greatly  attracts  young  and  ambi- 
tious thinkers,  who  are  delighted  and  flattered  by  the 
thought  that  they  can  comprehend  the  whole  knowable 
universe.  His  is  one  of  those  larger  minds  referred  to  by 
Bacon,  which  in  observing  resemblances  is  apt  to  overlook 
differences  and  exceptions.  He  can  by  his  constructive  in- 
tellect evolve  all  things  out  of  an  original  star  dust,  and 
pursue  its  course  of  differentiation  and  integration  till  it  is 
dissolved  into  the  vapor  in  which  it  originated.  But  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  any  human  intellect  can  carry  on 
and  finish  the  work  which  he  has  undertaken.  Of  this  I 
am  sure,  that  it  cannot  be  accomplished  till  science,  as  a 
whole,  and  certain  departments  of  it,  have  reached  a  much 
more  advanced  stage  than  they  have  yet  done. 

His  method  is  to  set  out  with  an  hypothesis,  say  that  of 
development,  probably  containing  much  truth,  but,  it  may 
be,  guilty  of  some  omissions  and  requiring  to  be  limited  on 
all  sides.  He  then  gathers  facts  to  verify  his  hypothesis. 
His  method  is  deductive  rather  than  inductive.  He  ex- 
amines facts  by  the  old  Greek  methods  of  analysis  and 
synthesis,  very  sharp  instruments,  but  somewhat  perilous 
because  they  are  so  sharp.  A  great  part  of  his  work  is 
described  by  him  as  synthetic,  the  synthesis  being  facts 
cut,  joined,  compressed,  and  compacted  by  his  own  com- 
prehensive mind.  His  method  is  not  just  that  enjoined 
by  Bacon,  who  recommends  us  not  to  anticipate  but  fol- 
low nature,  to  let  the  facts  suggest  the  laws  (axioms,  he 
calls  them),  and  not  to  neglect  noticing  the  apparent  ex- 
ceptions, which  are  to  be  entertained  as  Abraham  enter- 
tained strangers,  who  turned  out  unawares  to  be  angels. 
"  We  shall  have  good  hope  of  the  sciences,"  he  says, 
"  when  by  a  true  ladder  and  steps  not  broken  or  gaping 
we  rise  from  particulars  to  minor  axioms,  and  thence  to 


262  spencer's  philosophy. 

middle  axioms,  rising  higher  and  higher,  and  thence  to 
the  highest  of  all."  Bacon  shrewdly  remarks  that  "  a  crip- 
ple on  the  right  road  will  beat  a  racer  on  the  WTong,"  add- 
ing language  which  might  at  times  be  applied  to  Spencer : 
"  This  is  farther  evident  that  he  who  is  not  on  the  right 
road  will  go  the  farther  wrong  the  greater  his  fleetness  and 
ability."  In  his  eagerness  of  thought,  our  author  is  not  very 
much  inclined  to  submit  to  this  slow  but  sure  procedure. 
Possessed  of  great  speculative  ability,  he  is  apt  to  leap 
from  mountain-top  to  mountain-top  without  even  looking 
upon  the  plains  or  examining  the  valleys  below,  in  which, 
after  all,  are  to  be  found  the  connections  of  those  lofty 
ranges  which  he  is  so  fond  of  tracing.  We  may  have  oc- 
casion to  call  attention  to  some  of  these  lower  facts,  obvi- 
ous to  the  common  observer,  but  w^hich  he  has  overlooked. 
He  feels  that  he  has  a  special  aptitude  to  interpret  facts. 
Give  him  facts  and  he  will  explain  them.  Others,  how- 
ever, without  denying  his  facts,  will  feel  themselves  justi- 
fied in  interpreting  them  otherwise. 

At  this  present  time  Spencer  occupies  much  the  same 
place  among  the  English-speaking  peoples  as  Hegel  did 
among  the  pan-Germanics  an  age  ago.  Both  are  charac- 
terized by  speculative  abilities  of  the  very  highest  order. 
Both  would  bring  all  nature,  mind  and  matter,  under  their 
all-embracing  systems,  which  are  as  wide  as  the  horizon 
and  as  undefined.  Both  have  their  minds  so  filled  with 
their  own  grand  views  that  they  are  not  inclined  to  look 
at  the  views  taken  by  others,  or  at  the  facts  which  seem  in- 
consistent with  their  generalizations.  Both  have  had 
mighty  influence  over  young  men  bent  on  having  every- 
thing explained,  by  the  dogmatism  of  their  assertions  and 
the  comprehensiveness  of  their  theories,  which  seem  to  ex- 
plain what  cani^t  otherwise  be  accounted  for.  In  other 
respects  they  widely   differ.     Hegel  had  an  extensive, 


HIS  METHOD  OF  PROCEDUEE.  263 

though  by  no  means  an  accurate,  acquaintance  with  the 
philosophies  of  ancient  Greece  and  modern  Germany  ;  but 
when  he  criticised  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  discoveries,  he 
simply  made  himself  ridiculous.  Spencer,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  a  large  knowledge  of  the  late  discoveries  which 
are  bringing  organisms  under  the  dominion  of  law — more, 
however,  as  an  amateur  than  a  practical  experimenter  ;  but 
has  not,  so  it  appears  to  me,  studied  the  actings  of  the  hu- 
man mind  as  revealed  to  consciousness.  His  apprehension 
of  these  and  his  account  of  them  are  commonly  given  un- 
der conceptions  and  in  language  derived  from  matter  and 
motion.  Hegel's  sun  has  now  set,  leaving  behind  only  the 
glow  of  a  mighty  reputation.  I  believe  that  you  could 
now  count  all  the  thoroughgoing  Hegelians  in  Germany 
on  your  ten  fingers,  and  all  the  eminent  Hegelians  out  of 
Germany,  including  those  in  l^aples,  Oxford,  Glasgow,  and 
Concord,  on  your  ten  toes.  Some  do  not  scruple  to  call 
him  a  pretender  and  a  charlatan.  Spencer's  sun  is  now 
at  its  zenith.  What  may  be  the  estimate  of  his  philos- 
ophy at  the  end  of  this  century  I  will  not  take  upon  my- 
self to  predict.  As  embracing  so  many  established  facts, 
I  believe  that  there  is  much  in  his  system  which  will  abide, 
and  I  adhere  to  the  opinion  that  "  his  bold  generalizations 
are  always  instructive,  and  that  some  of  them  may,  in  the 
end,  be  established  as  the  profoundest  laws  of  the  know- 
able  universe."  It  is  one  of  the  oflSces  of  thinking  men  in 
this  age  carefully  to  examine  the  structure  which  he  is 
rearing,  and  while  they  admire  its  massive  walls  they  may 
come  to  discover  rents  in  it,  indicating  an  unsettled  and 
unsettling  foundation. 


264  spencee's  philosophy. 


SECTION  m. 

HIS   METAPHYSICS. 

Mr.  Spencer  does  not  look  on  himself,  and  does  not 
wish  others  to  regard  him,  as  a  sceptic ;  on  the  contrary, 
his  philosophy  demands  a  large  amount  of  faith.  In  par- 
ticular, he  admits,  as  all  profound  men  do,  certain  truths 
as  incapable  of  being  provedj  but  which  must  be  accepted 
by  all.  He  admits,  "In  every  case,  by  every  school, 
something  has  to  be  assumed  "  {Psych,  ii.,  390).  We  cannot 
prove  this  something,  but  we  can  show  that  we  are  en- 
titled to  assume  it.  He  started  as  a  speculator  when  Ham- 
ilton and  Mansel,  largely  following  Kant,  were  the  reign- 
ing metaphysicians  of  Britain,  and  he  takes  his  views  of 
the  character  and  marks  of  first  truths  largely  from  them, 
modifying  but  not  improving  them.  "  The  inconceiv- 
ableness  of  its  negation  is  that  which  shows  a  cognition  to 
possess  the  highest  rank — is  the  criterion  by  which  its  un- 
surpassable validity  is  known."  "If  its  negation  is  in- 
conceivable, the  discovery  of  this  is  the  discovery  that  we 
are  obliged  to  accept  it.  And  a  cognition  which  we  are 
thus  obliged  to  accept  is  one  which  we  class  as  having  the 
highest  possible  certainty  "  {Psych,  ii.,  p.  407). 

This  criterion  of  first  principles  is  so  far  a  sound  one, 
and  may  serve  some  good  purposes.  But  it  is  mutilated, 
and  has  not  been  put  in  the  proper  form.  I  cannot  give 
in  to  the  maxnn  that  a  man  should  believe  a  proposition 
simply  because  he  cannot  conceive  or  act  otherwise.  This 
is  a  kind  of  fatalism  against  which  the  heart  if  not  the 
head  is  apt  tq^rebel.  I  hold  in  opposition  to  the  prevail- 
ing agnosticism,  founded  by  Hume  and  favored  without 


HIS  METAPHYSICS.  265 

their  intending  it  by  Kant  and  Hamilton,  that  man  can 
so  far  know  things  and  the  relations  of  things.  He  knows 
self  as  thinking  and  feeling.  He  knows  body  as  extended 
and  resisting  his  energy.  He  perceives  at  once  certain  re- 
lations in  things  thus  known,  as,  for  example,  that  these 
two  straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a  space,  and  that  these 
two  things j)lus  other  two  things  make  four  things.  He 
knows  all  this  because  he  perceives  things  and  what  is  in 
things.  This  gives  us  a  criterion  not  only  of  "  unsurpass- 
able validity,"  which  "  we  are  obliged  to  accept,"  not  only 
of  the  "  highest  class "  and  the  ''  highest  possible  cer- 
tainty "  to  us,  which  is  avowedly  all  that  is  known  to  man. 
This  is  a  hypothesis  vvhich  supports  itself  on  agencies 
which  are  very  much  unknown.  We  know  nothing  of 
the  processes  by  which  the  virtue  has  come  down  from 
one  individual  and  one  race  to  another.  The  mystery  of 
the  virtue  supposed  to  descend  in  apostolic  succession  is 
nothing  to  this.  We  cannot  tell  what  was  the  experience 
laid  up  by  the  ascidian  and  descending  down  through  the 
fish  to  the  ape  and  early  man.  Was  it  conscious  or  un- 
conscious in  the  ascidian?  If  not,  when  did  it  become 
conscious  ?  What  form  did  it  take  ?  It  is  an  hypothesis 
which  it  is  impossible  to  refute  because  it  is  an  hypothesis 
which  cannot  spread  out  its  proof.  As  an  hypothesis  it 
does  not  explain  the  whole  phenomenon.  We  have,  in 
fact,  no  anticipation  of  mathematical  or  metaphysical  or 
moral  truth  among  the  lower  animals. 

I  admit  that  heredity  may  explain  so  much :  it  may  ac- 
count for  the  formation  and  the  action  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem. But  some  of  us  deny  that  nervous  action  is  mental 
action.  I  deny  that  mere  nervous  action  can  become  moral 
action.  The  great  body  of  our  scientific  men  are  procla'm- 
ing  that  bodily  action  and  mental  action  are  entirely  dif- 
ferent.    The  brain  and  nerves  are  not  the  mind,  they  are 


266 

merely  the  organ  of  the  mind.  It  is  altogether  gratuitous 
to  assume  that  the  heredity  which  can  fashion  our  nervous 
structure  can  also  form  our  fundamental  laws  of  knowl- 
edge and  belief.  It  would  be  difficult  to  prove  that  the 
brain  is  anything  more  to  the  mind  than  an  organ  of  sen- 
sation and  locomotion. 

Supposing  that  the  brain  or  the  cerebro-spinal  mass  is  the 
organ  of  the  mind,  it  may  be  able  in  a  great  variety  of 
ways  to  modify  mental  actions.  It  may  constrain  them  to 
go  in  certain  ways,  and  restrain  them  in  others.  The 
mind  may  be  led  to  act  in  a  particular  manner  by  the  ready 
concurrence  of  the  nerves.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the 
organism  does  not  co-operate,  the  thoughts  and  feelings 
may  be  greatly  hindered.  In  this  way  a  nervous  structure 
may  give  tendencies  which  become  hereditary.  But  this 
does  not  prove  that  the  primary  principles  of  reason  are 
the  product  of  brain  or  nervous  action. 

All  this  is  the  more  evident  when  we  consider  what  is 
the  nature  of  our  intuitions.  They  are  of  the  nature  of 
perceptions,  of  perceptions  of  things  and  the  relations  of 
things.  We  perceive  that  if  two  straight  lines  go  on  for 
an  inch  without  coming  nearer  each  other,  they  will  go  on 
forever  without  doing  so  ;  and  that  from  the  very  nature 
of  a  breach  of  trust,  it  must  be  evil.  There  is  no  proof 
whatever  that  there  is  any  apprehension  of  such  truths  or 
any  approximation  towards  them  on  the  part  of  the  dog, 
the  horse,  or  the  highest  of  the  animals. 

Even  on  the  supposition  that  these  cognitions  and  beliefs 
and  judgments  have  been  generated  by  the  experiences  of 
ancestral  races,'  it  might  be  argued  that  they  are  valid,  and 
tliis  on  the  principles  of  Spencer.  They  have  all  the 
authority  of  the  lengthened  and  uniform  experience.  They 
can  stand  his  criterion  of  truth.  We  cannot  conceive  that 
hypocrisy  should  be  good,  and  so  we  argue  that  this  truth 


THE   UNKNOWABLE.  267 

has  "  unsurpassable  validity,"  and  is  of  "  the  highest  possi- 
ble rank."  I  claim  for  it  another  validity.  These  truths, 
however  generated,  have  the  authority  of  the  God  who 
produced  them,  whether  by  development  or  otherwise.  I 
feel  myself  at  liberty  to  appeal  to  these  first  truths  of  our 
reason,  whether  speculative  or  moral. 

Mr.  Spencer  adopts  from  Hamilton  and  Mansel  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Kelativity  of  all  knowledge,  that  is,  that  we 
do  not  know  things,  but  merely  the  relations  of  things  in 
themselves  unknown  ;  their  relations  to  us  or  the  relations 
of  phenomena  or  appearances  to  one  another.  I  have 
been  opposing  this  doctrine  ever  since  it  was  expounded  by 
Hamilton  in  his  Discussions^  I  maintain  that  in  every 
act  of  sense  perception  and  self  consciousness  we  know  self 
and  things  affecting  self.  True,  we  may  not  know  things 
in  themselves — in  themselves  is  an  unmeaning  phrase ;  we 
do  not  know  all  about  things,  but  we  know  them  as  things 
under  the  aspect  in  which  they  present  themselves ;  in 
other  words,  we  know  things  as  presenting  themselves  to 
our  senses  external  and  internal.  We  have  as  good  proof 
that  we  know  things  as  that  we  know  the  relation  of 
things.  There  is  always  some  knowledge  of  things  im- 
plied in  order  to  know  the  relations  of  things  to  us  or  to 
one  another. 


SECTION  IV. 

THE     UNKNOWABLE. 

The  doctrine  of  Eelativity .  leads  and  must  ever  lead  id 
that  of  Nescience,  or,  as  it  is  now  called,  Agnosticism. 
Spencer  holds,  indeed  starts  with  a  very  pronounced  form 

^  See  Method  of  Divine  Government^  Sup.  Art. ,  and  Art.  Hamilton,  in 
History  vf  Scottish  Ph^sophy. 


268  spencee's  philosophy. 

of  the  latter.  The  one  phrase,  expressive  of  his  creed, 
is  the  Unknown  and  Unknowable.  This  Unknown  is  a 
reality,  is  in  fact  the  one  reality ;  herein  he  differs  from 
most  agnostics,  who  know  no  reality.  He  argues  that  the 
known  implies  the  unknow^n.  It  may  be  doubted  whether 
his  argument  is  conclusive.  He  cannot  guarantee  it  by 
an  appeal  to  his  ultimate  criterion,  "  the  inconceivable - 
ness  of  its  negation  which  is  that  which  shows  a  cognition 
to  possess  the  highest  rank,"  for  I  can  easily  conceive  that 
there  is  nothing  beyond  the  known.  I  do  believe,  indeed, 
that  there  are  things  beyond  our  ken.  I  do  so  because 
always  when  I  inquire  I  find  there  is  something  beyond 
what  I  as  yet  know.  But  the  argument  is  not  apodictic  or 
demonstrative,  guaranteed  by  a  necessity  of  thought.  It  is 
quite  conceivable  that  what  is  unknown  may  not  on  that 
account  be  unknowable  ;  it  may  be  known  at  some  future 
time,  or  by  farther  research.  I  rather  think  the  disciples 
of  the  school  will  abandon  this  unkno\vable  as  not  a  logi- 
cal necessity,  as  meaningless  and  an  incumbrance,  and 
thus  cut  off  from  the  philosophy  the  religion  which  its 
founder  imagines  that  he  has. 

He  allots  this  unknowable  region  to  religion.  I  am  not 
inclined  to  accept  the  gift  he  so  graciously  offers,  as  I  do 
not  and  cannot  know  what  it  is.  A  thing  utterly  un- 
known can  never  engage  the  mind  in  any  way,  cannot 
raise  any  elevated  conception  or  call  forth  any  elevating 
sentiment.  In  order  to  emotion  there  must  be  an  object 
of  some  kind  to  which  it  is  directed.  The  unknown  can- 
not evoke  any  feeling,  except  that  which  darkness  produces, 
a  vague  and  lYieaningless  awe  in  no  way  fitted  to  fill  or 
satisfy  the  mind.  The  rudest  fetish  worship,  that  of 
stocks,  or  stones,  or  animals,  is  more  elevating  than  this, 
if  indeed  any  one  would  think  of  adoring  such  an  object. 
Paul  tells  us  that  he  saw  an  altar  to  the  unknown  God, 


THE  UNKNOWABLE.  269 

but  lie  does  not  say  that  lie  saw  any  one  worshipping 
there.  The  belief  in  it,  if  anj^  one  conld  believe  in  it, 
can  have  no  purifying  influence  on  the  heart  and  charac- 
ter, and  can  tend  in  no  way  to  regulate  the  life ;  as  it  can- 
not be  known  whether  the  object,  if  there  be  an  object,  is 
good  or  evil,  has  or  has  not  love  to  any  thing.  Instead  of 
clinging  to  it  the  heart  shrinks  from  it.  A  man  feels 
that  in  such  a  region  he  would  breathe  as  in  vacuum. 
I  suspect  that  most  of  those  who  adopt  the  philosophy 
will  be  prepared  to  abandon  the  religion  as  having  no  in- 
terest to  them.  Certainly  no  one  would  fight  for  the  pos- 
session of  this  territory. 

Though  the  discoverer  of  the  unknown  says  it  is  un- 
knowable, yet  it  turns  out  that  he  knows  a  great  deal  about 
it  and  gives  us  information  about  it.  He  tells  us  that  it 
exists  and  is  a  reality  ;  and  surely  this  is  some  knowledge. 
He  knows  it  to  be  without  limit  and  speaks  of  it  as  a  force 
or  power.  ''  We  are  irresistibly  impelled  by  the  relativity 
of  our  thoughts  to  vaguely  conceive  of  some  unknown  force 
as  the  correlative  of  the  known  force "  {First  Prin. :  p. 
170).  I  quote  this,  not  as  a  valid  argument,  but  sim- 
ply as  showing  what  he  knows  of  the  unknowable — he  is 
sure  it  is  a  force.  "  The  belief  in  a  Power  of  which  no 
limit  in  Time  or  Space  can  be  conceived,  is  that  fundamen- 
tal element  in  religion  which  survives  all  changes  of  form  " 
(p.  551).  He  knows  that  it  is  a  cause  producing  an  effect, 
that  it  is  the  cause  of  all  that  is  known.  Surely  the  known 
cause  of  a  known  thing  is  so  far  known.  There  is  profound 
truth  in  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle,  that  things  are  known 
in  their  causes. 

The  truth  is,  his  whole  exposition  is  a  mistaken  and  per- 
verted account  of  the  deep  truths  on  which  religion  is 
based  and  which  lead  us  up  to  a  belief  in  a  God  so  far 
known,  and  what  we  know  cherished  as  our  highest  knowl- 


270  speis^cer's  philosophy. 

edge.  We  have  the  known  before  ns,  and  we  discover  it 
to  be,  as  Sir  John  Herschel  expresses  it,  "  a  manufactured  " 
article  and  we  argue  a  cause,  a  cause  of  a  known  effect,  and 
itself  known  as  producing  the  effect.  How  much  more 
philosophic  the  reasoning.  "  The  invisible  things  of  God 
are  clearly  seen  from  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his 
eternal  power  and  godhead."  We  know  the  nature  of  the 
cause  from  the  effect  which  it  produces.  We  know  it  to 
possess  intelligence  from  the  trace  of  these  in  the  effects  ; 
to  possess  benevolence  because  the  tendency  of  the  ef- 
fect is  to  produce  happiness  ;  and  to  possess  rectitude  be- 
cause of  the  moral  power  placed  by  it  in  our  nature.  We 
thus  rise  to  a  "  power  "  and  a  "  godhead,"  who  cannot  be 
fully  known  to  us  because  of  his  infinitude ;  but  is  so  far 
known  because  we  are  made  in  his  image — a  God  who 
hideth,  but  who  also  revealeth  himself. 


SECTION  V. 

ON   EVOLUllON. 

Mr.  Spencer  accounts  for  everything  by  development ; 
by  development  out  of  the  unknowable.  But  develop- 
ment is  not  a  power,  it  is  simply  a  process.  I  have  shown 
that(Yol.  I.jKo.  HI.)  it  is  a  combination,  a  corporation,  an 
organization  of  causes.  Take  the  evolution  of  plants  and 
animals  ;  it  implies  a  combination  of  a  number  of  forces, 
mechanical,  chemical,  electric,  magnetic,  vital — as  they  used 
to  be  called,  cosmic  as  they  are  now  called,  including  the 
panzoism  of  Spencer  and  the  physiological  units  of  Dar- 
win ;  in  fact  so  many,  so  varied,  and  complicated  that  sci- 
ence at  its  pre^nt  stage  cannot  number  them,  or  determine 
their  nature.     When   we   describe  a  plant  or  animal  as 


ON  EVOLUTION".  271 

evolved,  we  mean  that  it  comes  from  a  combination — I 
believe  a  pre-arranged  and  adjusted  combination — of  agen- 
cies which  cannot  as  yet  be  untwined  and  exposed  indi- 
vidually to  the  view.  The  grand  business  of  science  in 
the  age  to  which  we  have  now  come,  is  not  to  satisfy  itself 
with  statements  about  loose  general  processes,  but  to  de- 
termine the  exact  nature  of  the  powers  involved  in  heredityj 
and  the  evolution  of  plants  and  animals.  This  will  clear 
the  way  for  settling  what  development  can  do  and  what  it 
cannot  do. 

In  conducting  the  investigation,  two  points  must  be 
carefully  attended  to.  First,  in  inquiring  into  the  devel- 
opment of  an  object  we  must  begin  with  ascertaining  ac- 
curately what  it  is,  what  is  its  present  state.  It  is  from 
what  it  is  now  that  we  argue  it  has  passed  through  a  cer- 
tain process.  If  we  wish  to  know  whether  the  planets 
have  been  developed  out  of  star  dust,  according  to  the 
theory  of  Kant  and  Laplace,  we  look  to  their  present  posi- 
tions and  movements,  and  find  that  we  can  show  how  these 
might  have  been  produced  by  certain  causes.  It  is  of 
special  moment  that  we  proceed  in  this  way  to  determine 
the  generation  of  mental  phenomena  of  any  kind,  say  of 
mind  generally,  or  of  consciousness,  or  of  any  particular 
idea,  say  of  beauty,  or  moral  good,  or  infinity.  We  must 
begin  the  investigation  with  determining  precisely  what 
the  phenomenon  is,  as  it  now  is,  and  as  it  presents  itself  to 
us,  how  much  there  is  in  mind,  how  much  in  the  power 
or  idea  which  we  expect  to  find  developed.  Without  this, 
the  theory  constructed  by  us  would  be  vague  and  value- 
less. 

Secondly,  we  must  see  that  the  supposed  developing 
causes  be  adequate  to  produce  the  effect.  It  is  now  gener- 
ally acknowledged  that  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  does 
not  consist  in  mere  invariable  antecedence  and  consequence. 


'272  spencer's  philosophy. 

There  must  be  some  force,  potency  or  energy  in  the  cause 
Scientists  now  speak  of  the  effect  being  in  the  cause.  I  be« 
lieve  that  in  mundane  causation,  the  effect  consists  of  the 
agents  acting  as  the  cause  in  a  new  state.  At  all  events, 
we  must  see  that  in  the  supposed  developing  cause,  there 
is  power  to  develop  the  precise  product.  We  do  not  be- 
lieve that  a  plant  can  generate  an  animal,  or  that  thought 
can  produce  extension,  or  sensation  give  us  the  idea  of 
moral  good.  I  am  to  use  these  two  principles  in  criticis- 
ing Spencer's  development  theory.  I  am  to  insist  on  his 
determining  what  is  the  precise  object  which  he  is  seeking 
to  evolve,  say  life  or  sensation,  or  intellect  or  moral  appro- 
bation. I  farther  insist  that  he  find  in  the  developing 
cause,  what  is  sufficient  to  produce  the  precise  effect. 

The  vulgar  account  of  development  is  that  it  starts  with 
atoms  and  rise's  to  molecules,  and  masses,  and  plants,  and 
animals  with  sensation,  and  thence  to  higher  and  higher 
intelligences  ;  and  now  it  is  supposed  to  moral  agents.  Mr. 
"Wallace,  the  co-discoverer  with  Darwin  of  the  doctrine  of 
natural  selection,  has  been  obliged  in  a  late  paper  to  refer 
this  rise  in  a  crude  manner  to  spiritual  agency.  For  this 
lie  has  been  exposed  to  ridicule  by  his  school,  perhaps 
justly.  But  his  desire  is  somehow  to  fill  the  gap.  Mr. 
Spencer,  marching  on  with  his  seven-leagued  boots,  can 
step  over  these  chasms  without  noticing  them.  Any  one 
may  see  some  of  these  fallen  stitches  (fa'en  steeks,  as  Hugh 
Miller  used  to  call  them)  in  the  fabric.  The  latest  science 
has  not  been  able  to  find  that  the  inanimate  can  produce 
the  animate,  that  there  can  be  a  viviim  without  an  ovum 
or  some  kind  of  protoplasm.  Huxley  and  Tyndall  have 
honestly  avowed  this ;  Spencer,  so  far  as  I  know,  has  ut- 
tered no  sound  on  the  subject. 

Other  chasTns  lie  gaping  before  us.  Can  the  unsentient 
produce  the  sentient  ?     Can  the  unconscious  develop  the 


OIT  EVOLUTIOTT.  273 

conscious  ?  Spencer's  attempt  to  explain  the  origin  of 
consciousness  as  we  shall  see  when  we  come  to  consider 
his  Principles  of  Psychology  is  about  the  greatest  philo- 
sophic abortion  of  our  day.  He  first  describes  the  nervous 
system  in  a  very  elaborate  manner.  Then  he  brings  in 
consciousness  in  the  stealthiest  way,  without  even  at- 
tempting to  explain  how  this  mental  quality  can  be  gener- 
ated out  of  the  soft  pulpy  substance,  the  brain.  He  fails 
to  notice  the  like  difficulty  as  it  presents  itself  in  the  rise 
of  consciousness  into  the  higher  attributes  of  mind,  such  as 
judgment  and  reasoning,  emotion  and  will.  As  might  be 
expected,  he  sees  no  difficulty  in  developing  morality  from 
accumulated  experiences  of  sensations  becoming  hereditary. 
Those  who  would  account  for  the  rise  of  the  lower 
natures  into  the  higher,  say  the  ascidians  into  the  fish,  of 
the  fish  into  the  monkey,  and  the  monkey  into  man,  are 
shut  up  between  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  if  they  follow  the 
acknowledged  principles  of  causation.  This  power  to  rise 
from  the  original  molecules  up  to  man  was  either  in  the 
orio-inal  molecules  or  it  was  not.  If  it  was  in  tlie  mole- 
cules,  then  there  must  have  been  in  it  all  the  mechanical, 
the  chemical,  the  cosmic  forces ;  in  fact,  it  must  be  a  power 
only  a  little  lower  than  the  infinite, — of  all  which  we 
have  no  evidence  whatsoever.  If  the  other  alternative  be 
taken,  and  it  is  supposed  that  in  order  to  produce  the 
higher  qualities  and  beings  new  powers  have  always  to  be 
introduced,  the  question  arises,  Whence  did  these  powers 
come  ?  If  it  be  said  by  constant  small  increments,  it  re- 
moves the  difficulty  only  in  appearance.  For  the  incre- 
ments could  only  give  what  they  have,  and  which  they 
liave  got  from  the  original  powers.  In  fact,  the  law  of 
development  with  heredity  is  after  all  merely  a  wide  em- 
pirical law.  A  law,  as  I  understand,  does  not  rise  beyond 
the  empirical  state  and  become  a  rational  law  till  the  causes 


274  speitcee's  philosophy. 

operating  have  been  determined.  For  the  present  there 
might  be  a  truce  in  the  war  between  religion  and  science 
as  to  development.  The  religions  man  believes  that  all 
the  operations  of  nature,  whether  coming  by  development 
or  otherwise,  are  from  God.  Let  both  the  religionist  and 
the  scientist  acknowledge  that  we  do  not  know  what  are 
the  causes  which  have  brought  in  these  higher  powers, 
such  as  sensation,  consciousness,  intelligence  which  have 
appeared  as  the  ages  advanced. 


SECTION  VI. 


HIS    DATA    OF    PHYSICS. 


Mr.  Spencer  can  tell  ns  how  the  universe  is  developed. 
The  agents  bj  which  this  has  been  accomplished  are  said 
to  be  Space,  Time,  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force.  This  is 
so  far  a  good  enumeration.  But  we  shall  see  that  the 
author  is  guilty  of  at  least  one  great  omission. 

I  believe  that  all  these  agents,  or  data,  as  he  calls  them, 
are  made  known  to  us  by  our  native  powers  of  knowledge 
or  intelligence.  They  are  perceived  by  us  everj^where. 
We  know  objects  in  space  by  the  senses— I  believe  by  all 
the  senses :  by  sight,  a  surface ;  by  muscular  sense,  a  re- 
sisting object ;  and  by  the  senses  of  hearing,  of  taste,  and 
smell,  our  extended  organism  as  affected.  By  an  easy 
process  of  abstraction  we  can  in  thought  separate  the  space 
from  the  objects  in  space.  We  know  Time  in  the  concrete 
in  all  our  memories:  we  recognize  an  object  as  having 
been  before  us  in  time  past,  and  we  separate  the  time  from 
the  event  in  time,  and  thus  have  the  idea  of  pure  time. 
We  kuow  Matter,  our  own  bodies  and  bodies  affecting 
them,  by  all  the  senses ;  these  with  their  properties,  such 


HIS   DATA   OF  PHYSICS.  275 

as  extension  and  resisting  energy.  We  know  Motion  by 
the  senses,  always  with  a  brief  exercise  of  memory,  recalling 
the  past  and  watching  the  body  as  it  goes  on  from  one 
place  to  another.  Force  is  also  an  intuitive  perception — 
certainly  by  the  mnscnlar  sense,  probably  by  all  the  senses : 
by  the  eye  we  know  vibrations  of  light ;  by  the  ear,  vibra- 
tions of  air ;  by  the  smell,  of  vaporous  matter  ;  and  by  the 
taste,  of  fluid  substance  striking  on  the  organism.  These 
are  agents  running  through  all  Xature,  in  fact  constituting 
the  material  world.  Our  author  has  shown  that  these  are 
mixed  one  with  another.  In  particular.  Force  is  exhibited 
in  them  all.  To  express  their  relation  in  one  sentence : 
Force  puts  Matter,  in  Motion  through  Space  in  Time. 

I  admire  the  ability  displayed  in  the  deductions  which 
he  draws  from  the  natural  and  necessary  operation  of 
these  agents.  He  has  in  his  Principles  enumerated  and 
propounded  certain  profound  laws  of  the  universe  as 
the  issue  of  the  action  of  these  Data.  Starting  with  the 
Persistence  of  Force  as  the  fundamental  agent,  he  shows 
that  there  must  follow  the  Instability  of  the  Homogeneous 
and  the  Multiplication  of  Effects.  As  the  issue  ''  there 
will  first  be  Universal  Evolutioii  follow^ed  by  Universal 
Dissolution."  '''  The  Dissolution  undoes  what  the  Evolu- 
tion has  done."  He  shows  that  "  the  Concentration  of 
Matter  implies  the  dissipation  of  Motion ;  and  conversely, 
the  Absorption  of  Motion  implies  the  Diffusion  of  Matter." 
**  Evolution  and  Dissolution  together  make  up  the  entire 
process  through  which  things  pass."  (See  last  Chap,  of 
First  Prin.)  These  I  regard  as  the  grandest  of  all  Mr. 
Spencer's  generalizations.  I  allow  that  this  is  the  tendenc}^ 
of  the  agents  he  calls  in,  and  these  must  be  the  results,  if 
there  be  no  other  powers  to  modify  them. 

It  will  be  necessary  here  to  inquire  what  is  the  precise 
nature  of  his  Data.     He  describes  them  as  "  manifestations 


276  spencek's  philosophy. 

of  the  unknowable  "  {Prin.,  p.  143).  I  remark  in  passing 
that  if  these  be  manifestations  of  the  unknown  it  is  no 
longer  unknowable,  for  a  thing  is  known  bj  its  manifes- 
tations— the  light  is  known  by  its  dispelling  the  darkness. 
But  I  do  not  enlarge  on  this.  He  speaks  of  these  Data  as* 
beino;  known.  He  treats  of  them  not  under  Part  I.  The 
Unknowable  but  under  Part  11.  The  Knowable.  He  speaks 
of  them  constantly  as  the  known.  It  has  to  be  added 
that  he  does  not  represent  them  as  being  known  as  things. 
The  things  known  are  after  all  unknown.  They  are 
known  merely  as  phenomena,  as  appearances,  of  a  thing 
unknown.  They  are  unknowable  as  realities.  He  tells 
us  expressly  "that  Space  and  Time  are  wholly  incompre- 
hensible. The  immediate  knowledge  which  we  seem  to 
have  of  them  seems,  when  examined,  to  be  total  ignorance." 
He  says  the  same  of  the  others,  thus :  "  the  nature  of 
power  cannot  be  known  "  {Psyc/i.^  Yol.  II.,  103). 

He  insists  that  "  the  one  thing  permanent  is  the  un- 
knowable reality."  But  how  does  he  know  that  the 
unknowable  exists  and  is  a  reality.  We  can  from  the  known 
rise  to  the  unknown,  and  thus  make  it  so  far  known  ;  thus 
we  can  often  discover  the  unknown  cause  of  a  known 
effect,  and  know  so  much  of  the  cause  from  its  effect. 
But  can  we  logically  rise  from  an  unknown  thing,  or 
unknown  things,  such  as  matter  and  force,  motion,  space, 
and  time,  and  reach  a  reality,  and  this  the  only  reality  ? 
Ko  doubt  the  thought  of  unknown  does  imply  the  thought 
of  known,  but  it  does  not  necessarily  imply  the  existence 
or  reality  of  the  known  or  even  the  unknown.  A  similar 
remark  may  be  made  of  known  implying  the  unknown  ;  it 
implies  the  thought  but  not  the  existence  of  the  unknown. 
We  have  here,  I  think,  the  most  confused  and  baseless 
metaphysics  "k)  be  found  in  the  historj^  of  speculation. 
We  have  the  known  to  be  no  reality,  and  the  unknown  the 


HIS  DATA   OF  PHYSICS.  277 

only  reality.  The  known  is  not  known,  and  the  unknown 
is  known  to  be  the  only  thing  that  has  being.  Tliis 
philosophy  cannot  satisfy  the  heart,  for  it  has  nothing  to 
engage,  us.  It  does  not  satisfy  the  head,  which  is  told  that 
it  has  a  known  which  yet  may  have  no  reality,  and  is  left 
only  with  a  reality  which  is  unknowable.  The  mockery 
both  to  head  and  heart  is  completed  when  it  is  told  that 
this  unknowable  is  God  and  the  sphere  of  religion. 

In  No.  III.  of  this  Philosophic  Series  I  have  shown 
that  development  is  organized  causation,  or  an  organiza- 
tion of  forces  to  produce  an  effect  and  secure  progression. 
In  evolution  w^e  are  to  look  for  causes  throughout.  When 
it  is  alleged  that  any  one  thing,  material  or  mental,  is 
developed,  we  are  entT<lcd,  we  are  bound,  to  inquire  what 
it  is  evolved  from,  ^.nd  then  we  are  required  to  ask 
whether  the  alleged  ^ause  is  competent  to  produce  the 
effect.  Thus  if  any  one  says  that  mind  is  developed  from 
matter  we  should  insist  on  his  showing  that  matter  has  in 
itself  a  causal  power  or  a  persistence  of  force  to  produce 
60  different  a  thing  as  mind.  If  he  says  that  thought  is 
evolved  out  of  nerves,  we  may  demand  of  him  to  prove  that 
there  is  potency  in  the  soft  pulpy  substance  to  produce 
thinking,  say  that  of  Plato  or  Aristotle,  of  Bacon  or  New- 
ton. If  he  cannot  show  this,  we  may  argue  that  as  space 
and  time  and  matter  and  physical  force  are  original  so  also 
is  mind ;  some  would  add  that  so  also  is  life. 

There  is  thus  one  great  omission — there  may  be  more — ■ 
in  his  enumeration  of  the  original  agents  from  which  the 
actual  phenomena  of  the  world  are  developed.  In  this 
process  he  does  not  call  in  mind.  He  does  admit  the  ex- 
istence of  mind  fully,  but  he  evolves  it  from  his  five  phys- 
ical powers.  Farther  on  I  mean  to  examine  carefully  his 
development  of  mind  from  nervous  action.  It  is  enough 
for  the  present  to  call  attention  to  the  hiatus  in  his  pro- 


278  spencer's  philosophy. 

cess.  I  hold  that  he  should  have  assumed  mind  as  well 
as  matter  as  among  his  original  data.  The  one  is  as 
necessary  as  the  other  if  we  would  account  for  the  whole 
action  and  disposition  of  nature.  Everybod}-  acknowledges 
that  in  this  advanced  geological  stage  psychical  action 
plays  an  important  part  in  the  action  of  the  lower  animals, 
and,  above  all,  in  man.  The  great  body  of  scientific  men 
are  not  inclined  to  allow  that  mind  can  be  evolved  from 
matter ;  a  large  number  have  asserted  that  we  cannot  even 
conceive  of  it  being  so.  If  this  be  so  there  is  a  mighty 
gap  in  his  edifice. 

As  there  is  mind  in  nature,  I  believe  that  it  discovers 
traces  of  mind  above  nature,  arranging  and  ruling  nature. 
Mr.  Spencer  traces  all  action,  and  in  particular  all  develop- 
ment, to  the  persistence  of  force ;  but  force  is  blind  like 
all  the  other  physical  agents  mentioned.  A  persistence  of 
force  might  be  a  persistence  of  disorder,  of  pain  and  misery. 
He  seems  to  feel  this,  and  calls  in  an  unknown,  but  which 
I  regard  as  so  far  a  known,  to  account  for  what  we  see  of 
law  and  order  in  the  world.  He  knows  this  unknown  to 
be  a  power.  I  insist  that  we  further  know  it  to  be  a  power 
of  intelligence  and  benevolence,  spreading  happiness  and 
promoting  virtue,  and  I  have  a  soul  to  discover  this  and 
lead  me  to  love  the  being  in  whom  these  qualities  dwell. 
Mr.  Spencer  has  overlooked  all  this,  and  in  consequence 
cannot  give  anything  like  a  satisfactory  account  of  the 
origin  or  of  the  present  state  of  the  universe.  We  feel  so 
as  we  follow  his  development ;  we  feel  that  there  is  some- 
thing left  out.  It  is  as  if  one  would  give  an  account  of 
the  British  Constitution  and  leave  out  the  crown ;  of  a 
cathedral,  and  never  speak  of  the  architect. 


BIOLOGY.  279 


SECTION  vn. 

BIOLOGY. 

He  carries  out  his  physical  data  first  in  Biology.  This 
is  the  science  in  which  there  is  the  brightest  prospect  of 
discoveries  being  made  in  the  present  day.  Mr.  Spencer 
rushes  into  the  department  with  the  eagerness  and  vigor 
of  those  who  hasten  to  a  newly  discovered  mine.  He  has 
a  very  considerable  acquaintance  with  animal  and  vegeta- 
ble nature — scientific  men  are  apt  to  say  more  as  an  ama- 
teur and  a  thinker  than  a  practical  worker  and  experi- 
menter. I  have  no  very  strong  objections  to  his  views  on 
this  subject,  except  to  urge  that  a  considerable  number  of 
them  cannot  be  regarded  as  established.  Many  of  them 
are  eminently  suggestive,  and  may  be  proven — or  dis- 
proven — at  some  future  time.  So  far  as  inductive  science 
has  gone,  we  have  no  unequivocal  cases  of  life  coming  from 
the  lifeless.  Omne  viviwi  ex  ovo  is  still  true,  and  Mr. 
Spencer  has  no  right  to  evolve  living  creatures  from  the  five 
physical  agencies  which  he  takes  as  his  data.  So  far  as  1 
have  observed,  he  does  not  decide  for  or  against  spontaneous 
generation.  But  the  whole  spirit  and  tendency  of  his  sys- 
tem is  in  favor  of  life  being  developed  from  the  common 
elements,  and  the  powers  mechanical  and  chemical.  Like 
most  living  naturalists,  he  does  not  adhere  to  the  old  faith  in 
a  separate  vital  force.  For  this  doctrine  I  may  say  I  have 
no  partiality  ;  the  business  of  science  is  now  to  break  up 
whatever  truth  is  in  it  into  its  separate  parts  and  to  deter- 
mine their  laws  scientifically.  In  following  out  this 
method  Darwin  calls  in  Physiological  Units,  going  down 
from  father  and  grandfather  to  children  and  grandchil- 


280 

dren,  and  in  this  way  only  can  lie  account  for  heredity 
and  tlie  likeness  of  the  young  to  then*  ancestors.  In  like 
manner  Spencer  calls  in  a  Panzoism  to  account  for  the 
wonderful  developing  powers  of  life.  These  certainly  are 
vital  powers  ;  and  they  may  possibly,  or,  if  any  one  insists, 
may  probably,  be  resolved  into  the  physical  powers  with  ' 
which  our  author  starts.  This  doctrine,  as  it  appears  to 
me,  in  no  way  tends  to  undermine  religion,  and  I  am  not 
inclined  to  fight  against  it.  But  it  must  be  proven,  which 
it  has  not  yet  been,  before  it  can  be  emplo^^ed  in  rearing  a 
system. 

In  many  cases  he  lays  down  laws — at  times  very  dogmati- 
cally— which  cannot  be  regarded  as  established.  Thus,  he 
says,  without  giving  proof,  that  the  cerebellum  is  an  organ 
of  doubly  compound  co-ordination  in  S2Mce^  while  the  cere- 
brum is  an  organ  of  doubly  compound  co-ordination  in 
time  {Psych.,  i.,  61).  He  says  this  hypothesis  is  reached 
a  jpriori.  I  cannot  find  any  proof  of  it  either  a  priori  or 
a  posteriori^  and  I  know  no  physiologist  of  eminence  who 
sanctions  it.  The  same  may  be  said  of  several  other  laws 
laid  down  by  him  confidently. 

lie  has  made  an  elaborate  attempt  to  find  out  what  life 
consists  in,  and  to  construct  a  definition  of  it.  I  think  he 
has  not  been  successful.  He  criticises  the  definitions 
which  have  been  given  by  eminent  thinkers,  and  shows  suc- 
cessfully that  they  do  not  fully  fulfil  their  end  in  bringing 
into  view  all  the  properties  of  life  and  giving  us  its  differ- 
entia. His  own  definition  is  not  more  satisfactory.  As 
he  chases  it,  it  flees  before  him,  and  escapes  like  the  rain- 
bow when  he  would  catch  it.  In  the  end  he  makes  it  "  the 
continuous  adjustment  of  internal  relations  to  external  re- 
lations "  {Biol.,  ii.,  80).  This  would  apply  to  many  other 
things :  as  to^he  earth  in  its  relation  to  the  returning  sun 
in  spring;  to  a  mother's  house  visited  every  week  by  a 


HIS   PSYCHOLOGY.  281 

son  ;  to  a  college  receiving  its  students  in  autumn  ;  to  the 
Capitol  at  Washington  being  occupied  by  members  of  Con- 
gress, and  the  Houses  of  Parliament  in  Westminster  opened 
to  the  Lords  and  Commons.  He  misses  the  very  differ- 
entia of -the  thing  defined.  What  he  should  have  brouglit 
out  to  view  are  the  internal  relations  which  are  adjusted 
to  the  external  relations  of  air,  and  food,  and  such  like  ob- 
jects. 


SECTION  vni. 

HIS    PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  his  two  elaborate  volumes  on  Psychology  his  aim  is 
not  to  give  an  account  of  the  operations  of  the  mind  and 
to  classify  them,  but  to  show  how  they  are  developed  from 
the  physical  data  which  he  has  enunciated.  He  acknowl- 
edges that  the  truths  here  to  be  set  down  are  truths  of 
which  the  very  elements  are  unknown  to  physical  science 
{Psych.^  i.,  98).  Still  he  strives  to  get  these  elements  from 
physics.  Students  of  mind  commonly  hold  that  mind  is 
chiefly  made  known  by  self -consciousness  or  the  inner 
sense,  even  as  matter  is  made  known  by  the  external  senses. 
But  our  author  does  not  observe  so  carefully  and  intelli- 
gently the  phenomena  of  the  inner  world  by  the  inner 
sense  as  he  does  those  of  the  outer  world  by  the  outer 
senses.  He  admits  readily  that  mind  exists  and  that  it 
differs  from  matter.  He  treats  psychology  as  a  separate 
department  of  science.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  he  is  not 
a  master  of  the  science  of  mind  as  he  is  of  mechanical 
science.  He  draws  mind  from  nerves  ;  indeed,  he  identi- 
fies the  two  and  can  scarcely  be  made  to  distinguish  between 
them.  By  confounding  them  he  thinks  he  can  generate 
mind  out  of  matter. 


282  spencer's  philosophy. 

From  this  place  onward  it  will  be  necessary  to  insist 
on  the  two  principles  explained  (Section  Y.),  as  to,  first, 
our  having  it  clearly  defined  what  is  the  present  state  of 
the  object  supposed  to  be  developed  ;  and  secondly,  fiiiding 
in  the  development  a  cause  adequate  to  produce  the  precise 
effect.  Mr.  Spencer  violates  the  first  of  these  principles 
in  his  account  of  mind  where  he  leaves  out  some  of  its . 
characteristic  phenomena.  It  is  only  by  doing  so  that  he 
is  able  to  impart  any  plausibility  to  his  theory  of  the  evo- 
lution of  mind.  He  does  not  state,  and  apparently  does  not 
see,  that  we  have  a  knowledge  of  self  in  consciousness,  of 
self  as  remembering,  imagining,  thinking,  approving,  con- 
demning, willing.  He  evolves  conscience,  but  gives  it  no 
special  cognitive  power  or  authority.  He  denies  free-will 
in  the  most  emphatic  manner,  and  declares  it  to  be  incon- 
sistent with  the  progress  of  the  race  as  secured  by  the 
march  of  development.  He  does  not  condescend  to  notice 
the  high  ideas  which  the  mind  can  entertain  of  moral 
good,  of  holiness  and  infinity,  though  he  speaks  of  the  un- 
knowable as  infinite. 

He  also  violates  the  second  principle  and  does  not  find 
a  cause  competent  to  generate  mind.  A  large  portion  of 
his  first  volume  is  on  the  ^Nerves.  I  frankly  acknowledge 
that  I  am  not  able  to  examine  it  critically  as  a  branch  of 
science.  But  this  I  know,  that  some  who  have  studied 
physiology  profoundly  are  not  prepared  to  concur  in  his 
generalizations  as  to  the  way  in  which  nerves  and  nerve- 
force  are  generated.  I  have  no  opinion  on  the  subject, 
and  if  I  had  it  would  be  of  no  value  whatever.  But  I  feel 
that  I  am  competent,  as  any  intelligent  man  is,  to  examine 
his  derivation  of  consciousness,  and  all  mental  operations, 
from  the  soft  pulpy  substance,  the  nerves.  1  am  ready 
to  concur  in  the  statement  that  there  is  a  relation  between 
the  quantity  of  nerve-tissue  and  the  quantity  and  complexity 


HIS   PSYCHOLOGY.  283- 

of  motion  in  the  bodily  frame.  But  this  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  saying  that  there  is  a  like  close  relation  between 
nervous  force  and  mental  force  of  all  kinds,  say  literary, 
or  mathematical,  or  philosophical  force,  or  moral  force — in 
following 'the  good  and  resisting  the  evil.  I  do  believe  in 
the  connection  between  nerve-force  and  certain  forms  of 
mental  action,  especially  sensation  and  emotion.  But  cer- 
tainly the  two  are  not  to  be  identified,  but  rather  to  be 
carefully  distinguished.  I  do  not  look  on  the  pulpy  mat- 
ter of  the  nerves  as  being  the  same  as  the  force  trans- 
mitted through  them.  But  what  is  the  nerve-force  ?  I 
am  not  sure  that  Mr.  Spencer  or  any  one  else  can  tell. 
All  that  I  insist  on  is,  that  it  is  unwarrantable  to  extract 
mind  with  its  endowments  from  such  a  substance  as  the 
nerves. 

We  must  try  here  to  ascertain  what  view  our  philosopher 
takes  of  mind.  "  Mind  is  certainly  in  some  cases,  and 
probably  in  all,  resolvable  into  nervous  shocks,  and  these 
answer  to  waves  of  molecular  motion  that  traverse  nerves 
and  nerve  centres  "  (Psi/ch.,  i.,  156).  There  is  a  perpetual 
reference  by  him,  and  it  may  be  added,  by  Prof.  Bain,  to 
nervous  shocks.  It  is  a  convenient  word  for  those  who 
wish  to  conceal  an  ambiguity  from  themselves  and  others. 
A  shock  is  defined  by  Webster  as  "  Conflict ;  violent  colli- 
sion ;  concussion ;  external  violence ;  conflict  of  enemies  ; 
sudden  impression  of  fear,  dread,  or  abhorrence  ;  offence ; 
impression  of  disgust,"  etc.  It  is  scarcely  a  word  to  be 
used  in  strictly  scientific  discussion  ;  it  may  mean  a  violent 
concussion  or  collision,  which  is  entirely  material  and  made 
known  by  the  senses ;  or  a  sudden  impression  of  fear, 
dread,  or  abhorrence,  which  is  made  known  by  conscious- 
ness. Surely  a  violent  concussion  is  one  thing,  and  a  dread 
arising  from  the  apprehension  of  it  is  a  different  thing. 
If  the  concussion  is  a  purely  material  movement,  though  it 


284  spencer's  philosophy. 

should  be  that  of  an  earthquake,  there  is  no  dread  in  it. 
The  dread  springs  up  in  a  soul  that  has  an  idea  of  danger 
to  come  from  the  collision.  But  the  double  meaning,  the 
one  real,  the  other  metaphorical,  allures  the  constructor  of 
tlie  theory  to  cover  over  the  difference  and  identify  the 
two.  ' 

He  passes  over  the  gulf  in  his  usual  way,  by  a  leap,  and 
calls  nerve  and  mind  correlates.  "  Changes  in  nerve  vesi- 
cles are  the  objective  correlates  of  what  we  know  subject- 
ively as  feelings ;  and  the  discharges  through  fibres  that  con- 
nect nerve  vesicles  are  the  objective  correlatives  of  what  we 
know  subjectively  as  relations  between  feelings"  (Psych., 
i.,  270).  This  does  not  throw  much  light  on  the  subject, 
though  it  seems  to  do  so.  To  say  things  are  correlates 
does  not  clear  up  their  nature,  unless  we  are  told  what  the 
relation  is.  We  know  what  such  relations  as  husband  and 
wife,  father  and  child,  are ;  but  it  is  not  so  evident  what 
is  the  correlation  between  nerve  and  thought.  "  "What  is 
objectively  a  v/ave  of  molecular  change  propagated  through 
a  nerve  centre  is  subjectively  a  unit  of  feeling  akin  in 
nature  to  what  we  call  a  nervous  shock  !  ".  (i.,  184).  Here 
he  juggles  with  the  ambiguous  phrases  object  and  subject : 
nerve  is  the  object,  and  feeling  the  subject  But  surely 
nerve  exists  wdiether  it  is  or  is  not  contemplated  by  mental 
feeling  as  an  object,  and  mind  or  feeling  contemplates  a 
thousand  things  besides  nerves.  "Whatever  the  connec- 
tion, it  is  not  that  of  subject  and  object ;  each  is  after  all 
a  distinct  agent. 

Xor  is  it  correct  to  say,  as  Spencer  says  elsewhere,  and 
as  Professor  Bain  says  so  often,  that  they  are  sides  of  one 
and  the  same  thing.  For  in  the  first  place,  mind  has  and 
can  have  no  side,  being  a  psychical  or  spiritual  object; 
and  secondly  ^matter,  say  this  stone,  exists  whether  the 
mind  views  it  or  not,  and   the  stone  has  not  mind  as  its 


HIS  PSYCHOLOGY.  285 

side.  He  tells  us,  "  what  we  are  conscious  of  as  properties 
of  matter,  even  clown  to  its  weight  and  resistance,  are  but 
subjective  affections  produced  by  objective  agencies  that 
are  unknown  and  unknowable."  This  is  making  all  our 
knowledge  subjective. 

But  we  must  look  a  little  more  narrowly  into  what  he 
makes  of  mind.  "  Mind  is  composed  of  feelings  and  the 
relations  between  feelings  "  {Psych.,  i.,  163,  210).  This  is 
a  meagre  account  of  mind,  which  embraces  not  only  feel- 
ings, properly  so-called,  but  knowledge,  ideas,  memories, 
imaginations,  judgments,  reasonings,  resolves.  Every  one 
who  has  but  a  superficial  acquaintance  with  psychology 
knows  that  under  the  ambiguous  phrase,  feeling,  there  are 
embraced  two  such  diffei-ent  things  as  the  bodily  sense  of 
feeling,  such  as  w^e  have  when  our  finger  is  burned,  and  a 
higher  affection,  such  as  hope  and  fear,  arising  from  an 
apprehension  of  good  to  come  or  evil  to  come.  He  knows 
the  distinction  between  these,  and  calls  them  the  centrally 
initiated  and  the  peripherally  initiated ;  the  latter  being 
Sensations  and  the  former  the  Emotions.  This  formidable 
nomenclature  does  not  bring  out  the  essential  distinction 
between  the  two  affections ;  and  it  does  not  bring  out  the 
essential  quality  of  emotion,  which  is  an  excitement  called 
forth  by  an  idea  of  something  good  or  evil.  Mind  is  capa- 
ble of  both  these  kinds  of  feelings,  but  it  is  not  composed 
of  either  or  both  ;  it  has  intellectual  acts  and  moral  acts 
rising  above  mere  feeling  and  not  generated  by  feeling. 

Let  us  notice  how  he  generates  the  mental  faculties.  We 
begin  with  Sensation.  "It  is  an  integrated  series  of  ner- 
vous shocks,  or  units  of  feeling,  and  by  integration  of  two  or 
more  such  series  compound  sensations  are  formed  "  (i.,  127). 
Thus  a  man's  love  for  his  mother  or  his  country  consists 
of  two  more  nervous  shocks.  It  should  be  noticed  that 
his  shocks  come  in,  as  they  are  ever  doing,  to  explain  what 


286 

thej  cannot  explain  unless  tliey  possess  the  very  quality  of 
which  they  are  supposed  to  explain  the  rise.  A  distur- 
bance in  a  body  not  possessed  of  sensibility  is  one  thing, 
and  a  sensation  is  another  thing,  and  the  disturbance  can 
as  little  raise  the  sensation  as  quiescence  could. 

But  of  all  things  the  rise  of  Consciousness  is  felt  by  the 
whole  school  to  be  the  most  difficult.  They  often  use  the 
phrase  without  knowing  precisely  what  they  mean.  By 
consciousness,  as  I  use  the  phrase,  I  mean  self-conscious- 
ness, or  the  knowledge  which  the  mind  has  of  self  in  its 
present  state,  say  as  thinking,  reflecting,  musing.  At  this 
point  our  author  feels  a  great  difficulty  in  understanding 
how  mind  should  at  the  same  time  be  subject  and  object. 
I  see  no  mystery  and  feel  no  difficulty.  It  is  a  fact  falling 
constantly  under  our  notice,  and  the  metaphysician  should 
acknowledge  and  proceed  upon  it.  Just  as  I  know  the 
world  without  me  so  far,  so  I  also  know  the  world  within. 

But  as  often  understood,  consciousness  is  a  general  name 
for  all  those  states  of  which  we  are  conscious,  all  that  is 
peculiar  to  mind  as  distinguished  from  matter.  Taken 
in  this  sense,  there  is  surely  a  difficulty  which  every  wise 
man  will  acknowledge,  in  showing  how  it  can  have  been 
developed  from  nerve  force  or  from  any  material  force. 
There  is  a  deep  gulf  fixed  here  which  no  one  has  been 
able  to  fill  up.  Any  one  who  looks  into  it  thoughtfully 
will  only  feel  the  more  keenly  that  it  is  impassable.  Mr. 
Spencer,  daring  though  he  be  in  his  speculations,  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  have  attempted  it.  lie  is  describing 
the  nervous  system,  and  he  brings  in  consciousness  in  the 
stealthiest  manner.  He  speaks  of  separate  impressions  re- 
ceived by  the  senses,  and  of  the  need  of  some  centre  of  com- 
munication, so  that,  "as  the  external  phenomena  become 
greater  in  number  and  more  complicated  in  kind,  the  va- 
riety and  rapidity  of  the  changes  to  which  the  common 


HIS   PSYCHOLOGY.  287 

centre  of  communication  is  subject  must  increase,  there 
result  an  unbroken  series  of  these  changes,  and  there  must 
arise  a  consciousness  "  {Psych.,  ii.,  403).  There  must  arise 
a  €onscious7iess.  From  changes  and  a  centre — which  has 
no  consciousness.  A  cause  at  all  adequate  even  in  appear- 
ance to  produce  the  effect  is  not  even  hinted  at.  He  does 
not  even  acknowledge  the  difficulty  ;  does  not  seem  to  see 
it  in  the  eagerness  of  his  march. 

His  account  of  the  Ego,  or,  as  I  prefer  calling  it,  the  Self, 
is  equally  meagre  and  unsatisfactory.  He  speaks  of  it  as 
a  delusion  to  suppose  "  that  at  each  moment  the  ego  is 
something  more  than  the  aggregate  of  feelings  and  ideas, 
actual  and  nascent,  which  then  exists  "  (i.,  500).  In  this  he 
is  adopting  the  doctrine  of  Hume,  who  has  no  self  different 
from  impressions  and  ideas,  or  as  the  same  is  expressed  by 
Mill,  that  mind  consists  of  possibility  of  sensations.  "  If 
the  ego  is  not  present  in  the  consciousness  it  is  something 
of  which  we  are  unconscious — something,  therefore,  of 
whose  existence  we  neither  have,  nor  can  have  any  evi- 
dence. If  it  is  present  in  consciousness  then,  as  it  is  ever 
present,  it  can  be  at  each  moment  nothing  else  than  the 
state  of  consciousness,  simple  or  compound,  passing  at  that 
moment "  (Psych.,  i.,  500-501).  In  opposition  to  this  mis- 
taken view,  I  hold  that  in  every  act  of  consciousness  we 
have  a  knowledge  of  self  in  its  present  state,  say  as  think- 
ing, not  of  thinking  apart  from  self,  or  of  self  apart  from 
thinking  (or  some  other  exercise),  but  of  self  as  thinking. 

Hejnow  comes  to  Intelligence,  of  which  he  acknowledges 
the  existence  as  much  as  any  spiritualist  does.  But  what 
does  he  make  of  it  ?  ^'  Mind  is  composed  of  Feelings,  and 
the  Eelations  between  Feelings"  (ii.,  192).  "Intelligence 
is  generated  from  the  Relation  of  Feelings."  "  But  mind  is 
not  wholly  or  even  mainly  Intelligence.  We  have  seen 
that  it  consists  largely,  and  in  one  sense  entirely,  of  feel- 


^88  spencee's  philosophy. 

ings.  ITot  only  do  feelings  constitute  the  inferior  tracts  of 
consciousness,  but  feelings  are  in  all  cases  the  materials 
out  of  which  in  the  superior  tracts  of  consciousness,  intel- 
lect is  evolved  bj  structural  combination."  We  have  come 
to  another  hiatus.  He  has  not  told  us  how  from  relation 
of  feelings  intelligence  should  arise.  Surely  the  discovery 
of  relations  of  any  kind  implies  powder  of  discovering  rela' 
tions,  as  Locke  and  nearly  every  psychologist  has  held,  and 
yet  he  can  give  no  account  of  the  genesis  of  this  power. 

He  tells  us  more  precisely  what  intelligence  is,  and  we 
should  carefully  notice  what  he  says.  "  The  primordial 
element  of  all  intelligence  is  simply  change."  Expanding 
this,  "  successive  decompositions  of  the  more  complex  phe- 
nomena of  intelligence  into  simpler  ones,  have  at  length 
brought  us  down  to  the  simplest,  which  we  find  to  be 
nothing  else  than  a  change  in  the  state  of  consciousness. 
This  is  the  element  out  of  which  are  composed  the  most  in- 
volved cognitions"  (ii.,  291-2).  He  proceeds  to  defend  this 
position.  "  To  be  conscious  is  to  think  ;  to  think  is  to  put 
together  impressions  and  ideas,  and  to  do  this  is  to  be  the 
subject  of  internal  changes.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands, 
that  without  change  consciousness  is  impossible ;  consci- 
ousness ceases  when  the  changes  in  consciousness  cease.  If 
then  incessant  change  is  the  condition  on  which  only  con- 
sciousness can  continue,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that  all 
the  various  phenomena  of  consciousness  are  resolvable  into 
changes."  He  tells  us  further,  that  "  we  can  become  con- 
scious only  through  the  changes  caused  in  us  by  external  ob- 
jects "  (ii.,  291,  292).  There  is  a  call  for  criticism  in  every 
clause  of  these  statements.  A  change  always  implies 
something  changed;  it  is  a  new  state  of  the  substance 
changed,  and  the  thing  changed  should  have  been  speci- 
fied, and  tliis  ^\^uld  have  brought  us  to  a  mind  undergoing 
the  change.     Surely  every  kind  of  change,  say  a  change 


HIS  PSYCHOLOGY.  280 

in  tlie  temperature  of  the  air,  is  not  consciousness,  or  an 
element  in -cognition  ;  it  must  be  a  change  in  the  conscious 
self.  "  To  be  conscious,  is  to  think."  I  insist  that  to  be 
conscious  is  to  know  self  as  acting.  But  he  tells  us,  "to 
think,  is  to  put  together  impressions  and  ideas,"  thus  pro- 
ceeding on  the  fundamental  sceptical  doctrine  of  Hume 
who  put  together  impressions  and  ideas  without  things  im- 
pressing or  impressed. 

I  am  not  sure  about  admitting  that  without  changes 
consciousness  is  impossible.  I  may  be  conscious  of  self  as 
in  pain.  I  believe  J^ewton  was  conscious  of  thinking  con- 
tinuously for  a  time.  So  it  is  not  true  that  consciousness 
ceases  when  there  is  no  change.  ]!^o  doubt  there  are 
rapid  changes  in  consciousness,  but  this  because  of  the 
succession  of  ideas  in  the  brain  going  on,  always  in  the 
mind,  or  the  new  objects  pressed  on  the  mind  from  with- 
out. But  it  does  not  even  seem  to  follow  that  the  various 
phenomena  of  consciousness,  all  that  I  am  now  thinking, 
all  that  my  readers  are  thinking  when  they  read  this,  are 
resolvable  into  changes.  I  deny  that  we  become  con- 
scious only  through  ''  the  changes  caused  in  us  by  ex- 
ternal objects."  I  am  glad  to  find  hi  us  appearing  in  spite 
of  all  efforts  to  repress  it,  and  implying  a  self  distinguish- 
able from  outward  object.  But  in  us  there  may  be  changes 
ill  our  internal  ideas,  say  from  grave  to  gay,  from  fear  to 
hope,  from  one  judgment  to  another,  without  any  external 
cause. 

He  speaks  of  Memory,  but  very  briefly.  It  "  pertains 
to  that  class  of  psychical  states  which  are  in  process  of 
being  organized.  It  continues  so  long  as  the  organizing  of 
them  continues,  and  disappears  when  the  organization  is 
completed  "  (i.,  452).  I  do  not  understand  what  he  means 
by  disappearing.  He  acknowledges  that  there  is  a  con- 
tinuous thing  abiding  amid  all  individual  remembrances. 


290 

I  believe  this,  the  self,  may  hold  the  acquired  remembrance 
forever  in  this  world  and  the  next. 

He  speaks  of  Reason  at  considerable  length  and  remarks, 
very  truly,  I  think,  that  reason  is  dependent  on  previous  in- 
tuitions and  instincts  which  are  more  important  than  rea- 
son itself.  He  has  a  new  analysis  of  reasoning  differing 
from  the  syllogistic,  and  more  complicated.  I  believe  that 
the  logic  of  Aristotle  still  holds  its  ground.  The  other 
theories  of  reasoning  have  had  their  little  day  and  then 
disappeared.  The  two  new  analyses  which  have  been  given 
in  our  day,  are  likely  to  share  a  similar  fate.  That  of  Mr. 
Mill  has  very  much  passed  out  of  sight.  That  of  Mr. 
Spencer  has  not,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  been  adopted  by 
those  who  have  followed  his  philosophy  in  other  respects. 
According  to  the  Stagyrite  there  are  three  terms  in  reason- 
ing ;  it  is  a  comparison  of  two  terms  by  means  of  a  third ; 
(1)  John  Smith  is  (2)  a  man  and  therefore  has  (3)  a  con- 
science, as  every  man  has  a  conscience.  This  is  undoubtedl}^ 
reasoning.  But  according  to  our  author,  reasoning  needs 
four  terms,  which  he  elaborates  into  a  very  artificial  and 
unnatural  system,  which  would  require  a  volume  as  large 
as  this  to  examine,  but  which  need  not  be  examined  till 
some  who  have  studied  logic  come  to  accept  it. 


PART  SECOND. 

HIS   ETHICS. 
SECTION  IX. 

SEEKING   A   BASIS   FOR   ETHICS. 

All  his  previous  speculations  are  regarded  by  him  as 
leading  toward  the  grand  end  of  finding  ''  for  the  princi- 
ples of  right  and  wrong  a  scientific  basis."  We  have  now 
presented  to  us  the  basis  of  his  ethics.  Bacon  has  shown 
that  science  is  to  be  tried  by  (not  valued  for)  its  fruits ;  and 
the  English  race  have  a  sensitive  disposition  to  inquire  of 
every  theory  proposed  to  it  what  is  its  moral  tendency. 
It  was  at  this  point  that  the  weakness  of  Locke's  theory  of 
the  origin  of  our  ideas,  w^hich  he  derived  from  sensation  and 
reflection,  was  first  detected,  and  this  by  the  grandson  of  his 
patron,  Lord  Shaftesbury,  who  showed  that  our  idea  of 
moral  good  cannot  be  drawn  from  either  or  both  these 
sources.  There  are  many  inclined  so  far  to  follow  Spencer's 
development  theory  as  containing  (as  Locke's  theory  of  the 
origin  of  ideas  did)  much  truth,  who  are  anxious  to  know 
what  morality  it  has  left  us.  Thinking  men  see  that  if  de- 
velopment cannot  meet  the  requirements  of  ethics,  which  are 
quite  as  valid  and  certain  as  heredity  or  any  other  laws  of 
physiology,  evolutionists  will  be  required  to  modify  their 


292  spencer's  ethics. 

theory  and  allow  that  while  it  can  do  much  it  cannot  ac- 
complish everything,  and  that  it  leaves  man}'-  important 
facts  to  be  explained  by  other,  and,  I  may  add,  higher 
laws. 

Our  author  is  sensitively  aware  that  there  is  great  danger 
in  a  period  of  transition  from  an  old  faith  to  a  new  one. 
"  Few  things  can  happen  more  disastrous  than  the  decay  and 
death  of  a  regulative  system  no  longer  fit  before  another 
and  fitter  regulative  system  has  grown  up  to  replace  it " 
{Pre/.).  He  assumes  and  asserts,  without  deigning  to  give 
any  proof,  that  "  moral  injunctions  are  losing  the  authority 
given  them  by  their  supposed  sacred  origin."  This  is  no 
doubt  true  of  the  school  of  which  Mr.  Spencer  is  the  head, 
and  of  the  set  associated  with  him  in  London,  and  of  his 
correspondents  in  various  countries.  But  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  it  is  true  of  men  in  general,  even  educated  men, 
or  of  Americans  in  particular,  who  I  believe  have  as  firm 
a  faith  in  a  morality  prompted  by  an  inward  power  and 
sanctioned  by  a  Divine  Power  as  they  ever  had,  and  are  not 
likely  to  part  with  it  readily.  But  there  is  danger — not, 
it  may  be,  to  our  old  men  whose  beliefs  and  habits  are 
formed,  but  to  the  youth  in  our  colleges,  and  especially  in 
our  scientific  schools,  and  reading  only  evolutionary  books 
and  magazines,  and  are  told  that  all  things  proceed  from 
evolution  which  needs  no  God  to  guide  it,  that  in  throwing 
off  their  religion  they  also  throw  off  their  morality,  which 
has  been  so  intimately  joined  with  it.  Mr.  Spencer  will 
help  them  to  part  with  their  religion,  which  he  consigns  to 
a  region  unknown  and  unknowable,  having  attractions 
to  nobody,  but  lie  would  not  have  them  abandon  morality. 
He  would  not  have  them  part  with  their  religion  too 
speedily ;  but  if  positive  religion,  that  is  religion  with  a 
God  be  found^untrue,  as  he  tells  them,  then  intelligent 
young  men  cannot  any  longer  believe  in  it  and  must  by  a 


DATA   GF  ETHICS.  293 

necessity  of  their  nature  part  with  it  whether  evil  follows 
or  not.  He  is  evidently  alarmed  about  this  transition 
period  when  the  old  power  has  lost  its  authority  and  there 
is  no  one  to  take  the  place  of  the  deposed  king.  So  he 
hastens  to  give  a  new  and  scientific  basis  to  morality,  and 
this  independent  of  God  and  of  any  inward  law,  both  of 
which  have  been  set  aside.  I  have  now  to  examine  this 
new  ethical  theory,  I  trust  candidly  and  impartially,  and 
this,  in  the  first  instance,  not  upon  its  supposed  tendency, 
which  may  be  looked  at  subsequently,  but  upon  the  evi- 
dence advanced  in  its  behalf. 


SECTION  X. 

DATA    OF    ETHICS. 

Mr.  Spencer  looks  on  all  his  previous  inquiries  as  cul- 
minating in  his  ethics,  which  he  regards  as  more  impor- 
tant than  any  of  them.  Ethics  is  conmionh',  and  I  think 
properly,  supposed  to  have  to  do  with  our  moral  nature, 
some  giving  one  account  of  it  and  some  another,  but  all 
agreeing  that  it  has  to  deal  with  good  and  evil.  When 
I  found  him  calling  his  work  Data  I  fondly  wished 
(though  I  confess  I  scarcely  expected)  that  h«  would  have 
exhibited  and  expounded  what  we  see  when  we  look  on 
moral  or  immoral  actions,  say  on  mercy  or  cruelty.  I  did 
hope  that,  using  his  own  test  of  necessity  or  inconceiv- 
ability, he  would  show  us  what  "  we  must  accept  as  true," 
as  to  certain  voluntary  acts,  as,  for  example,  that  we  cannot 
conceive  deceit  as  good,  or  benevolence  as  evil.  This 
would  have  furnished  an  unyielding  basis  to  ethics,  and  on 
it  the  powerful  builder  might  have  erected  a  solid  struct- 
ure.    But  instead  he  reaches  his  data  by  a  long  inductive 


294 

and  deductive  process,  in  which  he  takes  in  the  conduct  of 
"  all  living  creatures,"  even  those  who  are  not  usually  sup- 
posed to  have  any  moral  principles  or  responsibility,  in- 
cluding the  brutes,  lower  and  higher,  from  the  monad  up 
to  man.  \ 

By  data  he  does  not  mean  truths  given  or  granted,  he 
does  not  mean  first  truths  to  be  tested,  as  I  reckon,  by  self- 
evidence  and  necessity,  but  truths  reached  by  a  process. 
That  process  is,  in  fact,  evolution.  It  will  be  expedient 
here  to  determine  precisely  what  point  we  have  reached  in 
the  process.  We  commenced  with  the  unknown,  of  which, 
however,  we  somehow  know  so  much  :  that  it  is  a  power, 
that  it  is  everlasting,  that  it  manifests  itself  in  physical 
agents.  Out  of  these  have  been  evolved  mind,  sensation, 
consciousness,  memory,  reason,  all  drawn  fi-om  antecedents 
which  it  seems  to  me  have  no  power  to  produce  them. 
It  is  now  very  generally  granted  that  the  effect  is  some- 
how in  the  cause  ;  but  there  is  nothing  in  nervous  tissue 
to  produce  such  intellectual  qualities  as  the  knowledge  of 
human  nature  by  Shakespeare.  We  are  now  to  look  at 
our  builder  developing  Conscience,  Obligation,  Duty,  Love 
(I  prefer  the  word  to  altruisn),  and  Free  Will,  or  ethical 
qualities  all  falling  under  the  consciousness  of  every  one. 
Again,  we  may  discover  the  same  defect,  and  this  still 
more  visible,  of  drawing  a  product  from  an  incompetent 
cause,  the  defect,  however,  not  being  seen  by  our  author, 
because  he  has  not  carefully  looked  at  all  that  is  in  the 
cause. 


VIRTUE  AS   CONDUCT.  295 


SECTION  XI. 
VIRTUE   AS   CONDUCT   AND   A   MEAN   TO   AN   END. 

He  opens  his  work  with  declaring  that  moral  good  is  a 
relation  of  means  to  end.  I  simply  put  in  a  caveat  here. 
By  onr  higher  moralists  virtue  is  represented  as  an  end 
rather  than  a  mere  means.  It  is  commonly  spoken  of  as 
consisting  in  an  affection  of  the  mind,  v/hich  is  good  in  it- 
self, say  love  according  to  law  or  benevolence,  and  not  as 
a  mere  mean  to  something  else,  say  happiness  which  in  the 
system  we  are  examining  is  the  only  good.  But  let  this 
pass  for  the  present,  that  we  may  consider  his  account  of 
moral  good  as  a  means. 

Virtue  is  conduct.  I  cannot  accept  this  unless  the  phrase 
conduct  has  a  certain  meaning  given  to  it.  I  would  scarcely 
speak  of  the  action  of  a  wagon,  a  steam-engine,  a  balloon 
as  conduct,  at  least  I  would  not  allow  that  it  could  be 
called  virtuous.  But  in  conduct  there  is  commonly  im- 
plied intention,  more  or  less  definite,  we  could  talk  of  the 
conduct  of  a  dog,  or  a  horse.  But  I  would  scarcely  call  this 
ethical,  though  Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  do  so.  When  we 
speak  of  good  conduct  in  man,  we  denote  intelligent  action, 
being  an  act  of  the  will  having  a  good  end  in  view.  But 
let  us  see  what  our  author  characterizes  as  virtuous  conduct. 

"  Morality,"  he  says,  "  has  to  do  with  conduct,"  which 
he  defines  as  ''  acts  adjusted  to  ends,  or  else  the  adjustment 
of  acts  to  ends."  Conduct  is  good  which  accomplishes  its 
end.  "  Always  acts  are  called  good  or  bad  as  they  are  well 
or  ill  adjusted  to  ends."  A  weapon  is  good  when  it  in- 
flicts an  eifective  blow  or  wards  off  a  blow.  I  have  simply 
to  interpose  here  that  according  to  this  view  a  robber's  pis- 


296  spencee's  ethics. 

tol,  or  a  burglar's  key,  or  a  draught  of  poison,  or  a  forged 
bank-note  is  good.  There  is  certainly  nothing  morally 
good  in  the  mere  adjustment  of  means  to  end.  We  have 
not  yet  got  a  scientific  basis  to  ethics  {Data  of  Ethics,  c.  iii.). 

"  If  from  lifeless  things  and  actions  we  pass  to  living 
ones,  we  similarly  find  that  these  w^ords,  in  their  current 
applications,  refer  to  efficient  subservience.  The  goodness 
and  badness  of  a  pointer  or  a  hunter,  of  a  sheep  or  an  ox, 
ignoring  all  other  attributes  of  these  creatures,  refer  in  the 
one  case  to  the  fitness  of  their  actions  for  effecting  the  ends 
men  use  them  for,  and  in  the  other  case  to  the  qualities  of 
their  flesh  as  adapting  it  to  support  life."  Surely  we  have 
not  yet  come  to  ethics.  But  he  proceeds  to  show  that  from 
this  initial  adjustment,  "  having  intrinsically  no  moral 
character,  we  pass  hy  degrees "  (mark  the  language)  "  to 
the  most  complex  adjustments,"  which  are  moral. 

Looking  to  sentient  life,  he  shows  that  it  is  good  or  bad 
according  as  it  does  or  does  not  "  bring  a  surplus  of  agree- 
able feelings  ; "  that  "  conduct  is  good  or  bad  according  as 
its  total  effects  are  pleasurable  or  painful ; "  and  concludes 
that,  "  taking  into  account  immediate  effects  on  all  per- 
sons, the  good  is  universally  the  pleasurable."  By  these 
gradual  steps  he  has  led  us  up  to  ethics,  declaring  ''  that 
conduct  with  wdiich  morality  is  not  concerned  passes  into 
conduct  which  is  moral  or  immoral  by  small  degrees  and 
in  countless  ways." 

The  non-moral  conduct  is  now  developed  into  moral,  and 
we  see  what  his  ethical  theory  is.  He  does  not  make 
moral  good  an  affection  or  a  voluntary  act,  or  even,  so  far 
as  I  can  see,  a  mental  operation  or  state ;  it  is  whatever  as 
a  means  on  the  whole  promotes  pleasure.  .  We  are  not  yet 
prepared  to  critcise  this  doctrine.  It  is  enough  for  the 
present  to  indicate  the  objections  that  may  be  taken  to  it. 
I  maintain  that^oral  good  is  a  mental  act  or  state,  and 


DEVELOPMENT   PPwOMOTES   HAPPINESS.  297 

that  it  implies  intention.  I  admit  that  pleasure  is  a  good, 
and  that  it  is  to  be  promoted  as  an  end,  but  I  deny  that 
it  is  the  only  good,  or  even  the  highest  end.  In  particular 
I  deny  that  whatever  as  a  means  promotes  happiness  is 
necessarily  a  virtue.  In  order  to  be  morally  good  it  must 
be  intended  by  the  agent  to  promote  happiness.  A  ma- 
chine, such  as  a  telescope,  or  electric  telegraph,  or  a  tele- 
phone, may  greatly  increase  the  resources  and  the  happi- 
ness of  the  race.  But  surely  we  do  not  regard  it  as  a  vir- 
tue like  honesty,  and  temperance,  and  righteousness,  and 
self-sacrifice.  But  instead  of  pursuing  this  farther  at  pres- 
ent, let  us  notice  what  he  makes  of  the  progression  of  hap- 
piness, in  regard  to  which  he  has  established,  as  I  think,  a 
most  important  truth. 


SECTION  XII. 

DEVELOPMENT   PROMOTES    HAPPINESS. 

UnSer  this  head  I  have  nothing  but  praise  to  bestow. 
He  is  successful  in  showing  that  as  geological  ages  have 
run  on  there  is  a  constant  increase  in  the  general  amount 
of  happiness.  He  cannot,  indeed,  tell  us  by  his  develop- 
ment theory  how  sensations  of  pleasure  were  produced ; 
but  having  got  these,  he  shows  by  that  theory  how  they 
have  become  greater  and  greater,  by  the  multiplication  of 
the  organs,  as  the  animals  become  more  special  and  more 
complex.  Then  there  is  the  lengthening  of  the  life  of 
living  creatures  and  its  extension  over  wider  regions.  He 
thus  summarizes :  "  We  saw  that  evolution,  tending  ever 
toward  self-preservation,  reaches  its  limit  when  individual 
life  is  the  greatest  both  in  length  and  breadth  ;  and  now 
we  see  that,  leaving  other  ends  aside,  we  regard  as  good 
the  conduct  furthering  self-preservation,  and  as  bad  the 


298  spencer's  ethics. 

conduct  tending  to  self-destruction.  It  was  shown  that 
along  with  increasing  power  of  maintaining  individual 
life,  which  evolution  brings,  there  goes  increasing  power 
of  perpetuating  the  species  bj  fostering  progeny,  and  that 
in  this  direction  evolution  reaches  its  limit  when  the  need- 
ful number  of  young,  preserved  to  maturity,  are  then  fit 
for  a  life  which  is  complete  in  fulness  and  duration ;  and 
here  it  turns  out  that  parental  conduct  is  called  good  or 
bad  as  it  approaches  or  falls  short  of  this  ideal  result. 
Lastly,  we  inferred  that  the  establishment  of  an  associated 
state  both  makes  possible  and  requires  a  form  of  life,  such 
that  life  may  be  completed  in  each  and  in  her  offspring, 
not  only  without  preventing  completion  of  it  in  others, 
but  with  furtherance  of  it  in  others,  and  we  have  found 
above  that  this  is  the  form  of  conduct  most  emphatically 
termed  good.  Moreover,  just  as  we  there  saw  that  evolu- 
tion becomes  the  highest  possible  when  the  conduct 
achieves  the  greatest  totality  of  life  in  self,  in  offspring, 
and  in  fellow-men,  so  here  we  see  that  the  conduct  called 
good  rises  to  the  conduct  conceived  as  best  when  it  fulfils 
all  three  classes  of  ends  at  the  same  time." 

I  have  quoted  this  passage  for  tii'O  purposes  :  one  is  to 
show  how  he  is  developing  his  theory  of  morals,  which  I 
am  about  to  examine  ;  and  the  other  and  present  purpose, 
to  exhibit  the  process  by  which  he  shows,  I  think  success- 
fully, how  the  means  of  happiness  have  been  multiplying 
and  intensifying  on  our  earth  as  the  ages  roll  on.  He  un- 
folds in  his  best  manner  the  provision  (he  would  not  use 
the  word)  which  has  been  made  for  securing  this  end,  and 
also  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  introduction  of  morality. 

Physical  operation  tends  towards  this  end.  "  To-day's 
wanderings  of  a  fish  in  search  of  food,  though  perhaps 
showing  by  their  adjustments  to  catching  different  kinds 
of  prey  at  different  hours  a  slightly  determined  order,  are 


DEVELOPMENT  PEOMOTES   HAPPINESS.  299 

unrelated  to  the  wanderings  of  yesterdaj^  and  to-morrow. 
But  the  higher  animals,  and  especially  man,  display  more 
coherent  combination  of  motions  ;  and  all  tends  towards 
the  increase  of  pleasure.  There  is  pi'oduced  by  the  advance 
a  balanced  combination  of  external  actions  in  face  of  ex- 
ternal forces  tending  to  overthrow  it,  and  the  advance 
towards  a  higher  state  is  an  acquirement  of  ability  to  main- 
tain the  balance  for  a  longer  period  by  the  successive  addi- 
tions of  organic  appliances,  which  counteract  more  and 
more  fully  the  disturbing  forces." 

Biological  arrangements  have  the  same  tendency. 
There  is  a  pleasure  attached  to  the  healthy  exercise  of  the 
body  thus  securing  an  attention  to  that  exercise,  which 
secures  an  increase  of  happiness,  and  wdth  him  what  pro- 
motes happiness  is  morality. 

Psychological  laws  have  the  same  influence.  He  drives 
here  an  epitome  of  his  psychology,  making  it  very  much  a 
department,  not  of  the  science  of  mind,  as  revealed  by  con- 
sciousness, but  of  the  physiology  of  the  nerves.  He  speaks 
of  the  three  controls  which  restrain  men — the  political, 
that  is  government ;  the  religious,  or  fear  of  the  super- 
natural ;  and  the  social,  or  the  influence  of  public  opinion 
— and  shows  successfully  that  all  these  lead  men  to  sub- 
ordinate proximate  satisfaction  to  ultimate  good.  He  here 
comes  in  sight  for  the  first  time  of  what  is  entitled  to  be 
called  moral  good.  "  l^ow  we  are  prepared  to  see  that  the 
restraints  properly  distinguished  as  moral  are  unlike  those 
restraints  out  of  which  they  evolve  and  with  which  they 
are  long  confounded  ;  in  this  they  refer  not  to  the  extrinsic 
effects  but  their  intrinsic  effects."  If  he  had  said  intrinsic 
character  which  makes  them  end  in  themselves  and  truly 
moral,  he  would  have  been  in  the  region  of  ethics.  But 
lie  merely  carries  us  to  the  portal  of  the  temple  and  does 
not  enter. 


300  spencer's  ethics. 

Sociology  brings  tlie  same  issue.  Here  he  shows  that 
the  universal  basis  of  co-operation  is  the  proportion  of 
benefits  received  to  services  rendered.  He  conchides : 
"  Tlie  sociological  view  of  ethics  suppleucients  the  physical, 
the  biological,  and  the  psychological  views,  by  disclosing 
those  conditions  under  which  associated  activities  can  be  so 
carried  on  that  the  complete  living  of  each  consists  in  and 
conduces  to  the  complete  living  of  all." 

I  have  allowed  our  author  to  expound  his  argument  in 
his  own  way.  I  accept  his  statement  of  facts  as  to  the 
progression  of  nature.  I  admit  that  he  thus  establishes 
two  Yerj  important  truths.  The  first  is  that  nature,  as  it 
progresses,  makes  for  happiness.  The  means  of  enjoy- 
ment become  higher  as  animated  natm'e  advances ;  is 
higher  in  the  period  of  fishes  than  in  that  of  mollusks,  in 
the  period  of  mammals  than  in  that  of  fishes,  and  in  that 
of  man  than  in  the  times  of  the  lower  animals.  This  is  a 
very  interesting  point,  though  it  is  not  an  etliical  one. 
But  he,  so  I  think,  establishes  another  point  equally  if  not 
more  important.  It  is  that  nature  prepares  for  the  intro- 
duction of  morality.  I  hold,  indeed,  that  till  man  appears 
with  a  conscience  pointing  to  a  moral  law,  there  is  and  can 
be  nothing  either  moral  or  immoral.  We  do  not  morally 
approve  or  condemn  the  acts  of  the  reptile  or  the  bird,  of 
the  dog  or  the  cow.  But  there  is  a  preparation  made  for 
man  and  for  morality  ;  a  scene  in  which  man  can  live,  with 
the  food  needful  for  him,  and  in  which  he  has  opportuni- 
ties of  doing  good,  encouragements  to  do  good,  machinery 
to  shut  him  up  to  good,  and  checks  laid  on  the  commis- 
sion of  evil. 

I  believe  he  has  done  good  service  by  establishing  these 
two  truths.  But  he  has  not  in  all  this  entered  the  proper 
domain  of  toorality,  and  least  of  all  found  a  scientific 
foundation  for  the  principles  of  right  and  wrong ;  he  has 


PHENOMENA   OYEELOOKED   BY   HIM.  301 

merely  constructed  a  basement  and  has  not  laid  a  basis. 
Proceeding  on  his  statement  of  facts,  and  interpreting 
them  after  the  same  manner,  I  discover  other  truths  which 
furnish  a  foundation  on  which  ethical  science  may  rest 
securely. 


SECTION  xni. 

PHENOMENA    OVERLOOKED    BY    HIM. 

"We  must  keep  before  us  steadily  the  principle  that  in 
inquiring  into  the  causes  of  things  we  should  begin  with 
determining  precisely  what  the  effects  are  <^  which  we 
are  seeking  the  causes.  In  settling  what  development  can 
do  we  have  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  things  de- 
veloped. I  believe  that  Mr.  Spencer  has  overlooked  many 
of  these.  In  particular  he  has  no  keen  or  steady  percep- 
tion of  hio;her  mental  exercises,  which  he  alwavs  iden- 
tifies  with  material  concomitants,  such  as  nervous  tissues. 
I  proceed  in  this  section  to  specify  some  general  facts  of  a 
spiritual  nature  which  he  has  passed  by,  though  tliey  fall 
directly  under  the  eye  of  consciousness.  These  facts  are 
as  certain  and  as  clear  as  any  falling  under  the  senses,  and 
which  have  been  specified  by  our  author.  Having  sup- 
plied these  omissions  we  will  be  in  a  position  to  deter- 
mine whether  he  has  explained  everything  by  his  ethical 
theory. 

First.  I  discover  design  in  these  arrangements  made  to 
promote  happiness  and  moral  good.  The  tendency  which 
he  has  so  acutely  detected  implies  very  many  and  very 
varied  adjustments  of  one  thing  to  another,  and  pf  all 
things  to  a  beneficent  end.  To  what  are  we  to  ascribe 
these  ?  Mr.  Spencer  is  too  much  of  a  philosopher  to  at- 
tribute them  to  such  meaningless  things  as  chance  and 


302  spencee's  ethics. 

fate.  He  is  ready  to  admit  that  beyond  the  known  phe- 
nomena there  mnst  be  an  unknown  power  to  produce  them. 
At  this  point  I  close  in  with  him.  This  combination  of 
adjustments  producing  a  tendency  toward  an  end,  being 
an  effect,  implies  a  cause.  From  the  effect  we  can  argue, 
and  so  far  know  the  cause.  These  arrangements  toward 
an  end  point  to  an  arranging  and  therefore  an  intelligent 
cause.  E'ot  only  so,  but  as  the  end  is  happiness,  they 
give  evidence  of  a  benevolent  cause.  As  the  effect  is  a 
reality,  so  must  the  cause,  the  intelligent  and  benevolent 
cause  of  an  effect  implying  intelligence  and  benevolence. 
These  grand  laws  of  beneficent  progress  revealed  in  bi- 
ology seem  ^  me  to  argue  as  clearly  as  the  special  adap- 
tations of  bones,  joints,  and  sinew  adduced  by  Paley,  that 
there  is  an  intelligence  organizing  and  guarding  them  to- 
ward discoverable  ends.  The  circumstance  that  God  pro- 
ceeds by  development  in  so  many  of  his  ways  does  not 
entitle  us  to  shut  him  out  from  his  works.  It  has  been 
shown  again  and  again,  as  by  M.  Janet  in  his  work  on 
"  Final  Cause,"  that  in  development  as  an  organic  process 
there  is  as  clear  proof  of  design  as  in  the  frame  of  the 
animal.  I  see  purpose  in  the  arrangements  which  produce 
the  beneficent  tendency  which  Spencer  has  traced,  quite 
as  much  as  I  see  it  in  the  constitution  of  a  good  society 
or  a  good  government.  I  carry  this  truth  with  me  as  I 
explore  the  various  compartments  of  nature,  always  keep- 
ing it  in  its  own  place,  and  I  find  it  as  a  torch  illuminating 
many  places  which  would  otherwise  be  dark. 

Second.  I  discover  another  end  in  nature.  I  discover  a 
moral  end,  or  rather  I  discover  that  moral  good  is  an  end. 
I  admit  that  the  promotion  of  happiness  is  one  end,  the 
highest  among  the  lower  creatures  incapable  of  appreciat- 
ing anytliing4jigher.  But  when  a  certain  stage  is  reached 
I  discover  this  other  end,  like  happiness,  a  good  in  itself 


PHENOMENA   OVERLOOKED   BY  HIM.  303 

and  an  end  in  itself.  Mr.  Spencer  mixes  up  the  two  ends, 
and  tliey  are  often  mixed  together  in  the  economy  of 
nature ;  nevertheless  thej  are  distinct,  and  should  be  seen 
to  be  separate.  The  one  end,  happiness,  is  visible  from 
the  beginning.  There  seem  to  be  anticipations  of  the 
other  end,  preparations  for  it  in  the  animal  reign,  just  as 
there  were  preparations  for  man  in  the  cattle  and  cereals 
which  preceded  him  and  made  it  possible  for  him  to  ap- 
pear. But  the  other  end  does  not  actually  come  forth  till 
a  morally  endowed  agent  appears  on  the  scene.  The  ad- 
justment of  means  to  end  is  a  good  thing,  but  before  we 
regard  it  as  morally  good  we  have  to  see  that  the  end  is 
good,  and  that  morally.  A  sword  may  be  fitted  to  slay 
an  enemy,  but  in  order  that  the  man  be  good  who  uses 
the  sword  he  must  employ  it  in  a  good  cause.  Hap- 
piness is  good,  but  is  there  not  also  another  good,  and 
that  is  the  love  that  promotes  happiness,  and  the  justice 
that  guides  and  guards  happiness  and  secures  an  equal 
means  of  happiness  to  all  and  each  ?  Misery  is  an  evil,  but 
so  also  is  the  cruelty  or  deceit  that  produces  evil.  Benevo- 
lence is  good,  but  is  there  not  also  a  right  and  a  wrong, 
and  a  justice  which  demands  that  every  one  has  his  due  ? 

Third.  At  a  certain  stage  there  is  the  appearance  of  a 
being  to  know  and  appreciate  the  moral  end.  We  have 
here  an  advance  on  what  has  gone  before :  an  advance  on 
the  brutes,  which  had  a  love  of  pleasure,  but  not,  therefore, 
a  love  of  good ;  an  aversion  to  pain,  but  not,  therefore,  an 
aversion  to  sin. 

For  our  present  purpose,  which  is  not  historical  but 
ethical,  it  is  not  needful  to  determine  how  man  appeared 
on  the  scene,  and  how  he  came  to  have  a  conscience  to 
know  the  good  and  discern  between  it  and  evil.  The 
advance  is  of  the  same  kind  as  that  which  took  place  in 
the  earlier  ages  from  the  inanimate  to  the  animate,  from 


304  spekcee's  ethicsl 

the  insentient  to  tlie  sentient,  from  the  unconscious  to  the 
conscious,  from  the  uninstinctive  to  the  instinctive.  Spen- 
cer and  his  school  will  no  doubt  account  for  this  by  de- 
velopment. The  old  alternative  immediately  comes  in  and 
requires  us  to  make  our  choice  between  the  horns.  If  it 
be  answered  that  the  morality  was  potentially  in  the 
original  matter,  I  answer  that  there  is  really  no  proof 
that  the  moral  power  which  led  to  the  martyrdom  of  So- 
crates and  the  labors  of  Howard  or  Livingston  was  origi- 
nally in  the  primitive  molecules,  and  thence  passed  through 
the  flaccid  mollusk  and  the  chattering  monkey.  I  add, 
for  argument's  sake,  that  even  on  this  supposition  we 
might  infer  that  all  this  must  have  been  arranged  by  a 
prearranging  and  therefore  an  intelligent  power  foreseeing, 
or  rather  planning,  the  end  from  the  beginning ;  which 
power  must  be  a  moral  power  lending  its  sanction  to  the 
whole  results,  and  so  to  the  moral  monitor  with  its  pre- 
cepts and  prohibitions.  If  the  other  horn  is  preferred, 
and  it  is  asserted  that  man  and  his  moral  nature  have 
come  from  a  superinduced  power,  then  I  claim  for  that 
power  the  sanction  of  that  Higher  Power  who  has  super- 
induced it.  Some  of  our  savans  seem  to  be  very  anxious 
to  prove  their  descent  from  the  brutes.  I  admit  and 
maintain  that  man's  body  is  formed  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  that  he  is  so  far  after  the  image  of  the  lower 
animals,  or  rather  that  the  lower  animals  and  he  are 
after  the  same  type.  "  My  substance  was  not  hid  from 
thee  when  I  was  made  in  secret,  and  curiously  wrought  in 
the  lowest  parts  of  the  earth.  Thine  eyes  did  see  my 
substance,  yet  being  unperf ect ;  and  in  thy  book  all  my 
members  were  written,  which  in  continuance  were  fash- 
ioned when  as  yet  there  was  none  of  them."  But  I  am 
anxious  to  claim  for  ]nan  in  general  and  for  our  profound 
thinkers  in  particular  another  ancestry.     I  claim  that  in 


PHENOMENA   OVEELOOKED   BY   HIM.  305 

respect  of  their  mind  they  were  made  in  the  image  of 
God.  We  can  discover  traces  of  this  even  in  the  most 
degenerate  of  mankind,  particularly  in  their  capacity  to 
ascend,  as  in  the  rise  of  the  Britons  from  the  days  of 
Csesar  to  their  present  state — a  rise  to  which  we  can  pro- 
duce nothing  parallel  in  any  race  of  animals.  Discover- 
ing it  in  the  germ,  even  among  savages,  I  see  it  taking  its 
fall  form  in  our  poets  and  philosophers,  among  our  patriots 
and  philanthropists. 

It  is  enough  forme  that  man  has  a  reasonable  and  moral 
nature,  no  matter  whence  derived.  Whatever  may  have 
been  its  histoi'ical  growth,  that  conscience  is  now  an  essen- 
tial part  of  my  being.  The  higher  state  may  have  grown 
out  of  the  lower,  as  the  fruit  out  of  the  seed  ;  but  the  fruit 
is  valued  for  its  own  sake,  and  not  because  it  has  come  from 
the  seed.  Whether  man  has  come  from  the  fish  or  no,  he 
is  no  longer  a  fish  but  a  man,  with  a  moral  nature  contain- 
ing certain  perceptions  and  prerogatives,  and  if  he  murders 
a  fellow-man  I  treat  him  in  a  w\ay  very  different  from  that 
in  which  I  would  treat  a  fish  which  had  seized  and  de- 
stroyed another  fish.  That  moral  nature  declares  that  there 
is  an  essential  and  indelible  distinction  between  good  and 
evil.  Its  decisions  can  stand  even  Spencer's  criterion  of 
truth  which  "must  be  accepted."  We  believe  that  the 
man  who  suffers  rather  than  tell  a  lie,  that  he  who  risks  his 
own  life  to  save  a  neighbor's,  is  right ;  and  that  the  man 
who  betrays  a  cause  committed  to  him,  or  wdio  murders  a 
fellow-man,  is  wrong.  I  am  as  certain  of  all  this  as  I 
am  of  the  existence  of  an  external  world,  as  I  am  of  my 
own  existence  ;  I  cannot  be  made  to  believe  otherwise. 
I  am  as  certain  that  I  reprobate  the  cheat  and  the  seducer 
as  I  am  that  there  is  a  cheat  and  a  seducer,  and  that 
I  live  to  reprobate  him.  Let  speculators,  I  may  say, 
wrangle  about  the  historical  antecedents  of  all  this  as  it 


306  spencer's  ethics. 

suits  tliem.  1  know  what  I  perceive,  and  I  follow,  and 
must  follow,  mj  conviction,  or  rather  I  follow  it  not  be- 
cause of  any  external  compulsion,  but  because  1  perceiye 
it.  Having  such  a  moral  nature,  I  inquire  into  its  data  and 
lind  it  declaring  that  happiness  is  an  end  to  be  aimed  at, 
but  also  declaring  that  moral  good,  love,  and  reverence  for 
what  is  good  is  an  end  and  a  higher  end. 

Fourth.  There  is  an  intuitive  principle  prompting  to 
the  performance  of  moral  good.  It  has  been  shown  again 
and  again  that  the  utilitarianism  under  all  its  forms — and 
Spencer's  ethics  is  a  form  of  utilitarianism — requires  an  in- 
tuitive principle  and  motive  to  carry  it  out.  It  proceeds  on 
the  principle  not  only  that  I  may  but  that  I  ought  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  others  as  well  as  my  own,  that  I  am  bound 
to  promote  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number. 
There  is  no  need  of  an  intuitive  moral  principle  to  lead  me 
to  look  after  my  own  pleasures ;  though  our  sense  of  duty 
comes  in  to  strengthen  my  purpose  to  sacrifice  present 
pleasure  for  greater  ultimate  happiness.  But  why  am  I 
bound  to  promote  my  neighbor's  good  as  well  as  my  own  ? 
So  far  as  I  can  see,  the  utilitarian  theory,  and  the  develop- 
ment theory  as  a  form  of  it,  has  no  answer  to  this  question. 
You  may  prove  to  me  that,  upon  the  whole,  there  would 
be  a  greater  sum  of  happiness  in  the  universe  were  I  to 
content  myself  with  being  the  husband  of  one  wife,  but 
there  would  be  a  greater  pleasure  to  me,  so  I  think,  to  have 
another  whom  I  love  more  ;  what  is  there  in  the  theory  of 
development  to  lead  me  to  lay  restraint  on  myself  ?  But 
at  the  stage  at  which  morality  comes  in  there  comes  in  an 
intuitive  conscience  which  insists  that  this  ought  to  be 
done  because  it  is  right,  and  points  to  a  God  who  sanctions 
the  whole.  We  have  thus  and  here  a  motive  which  leads 
us  to  promote  the  happiness  of  all,  and  prompts  us  to  d« 
•  good  as  we  hav^  opportunity. 


PHENOMENA   OVERLOOKED   BY   HIM.  307 

Fifth.  It  should  be  further  noticed  that  intuitive  mo- 
rality requires  us  as  a  duty  to  promote  the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  the  greatest  number.  This  is  as  much  a  precept 
of  the  intuitional  as  of  the  utilitarian  or  hedonist  theory 
of  moi'als,  with-  this  very  important  difference  that  the 
former  carries  within  itself  and  with  it  a  motive  to  induce 
us  to  do  good  to  others. 

It  should  be  noticed  of  this  intuitive  conscience  that  it 
looks  to  a  law  above  it,  and  to  which  it  is  subordinate. 
This  law  is,  "  Do  unto  others  even  as  ye  would  that  others 
should  do  unto  you."  It  follows,  that  love  is  the  grand, 
the  essential  virtue — being  always  regulated  by  law.  I 
prefer  the  phrase  "  love "  to  altruism,  the  Comtean  one, 
which  the  school  is  seeking  to  inti'oduce,  inasmuch  as  the 
former  demands  an  inward  affection,  whereas  the  latter 
might  be  satisfied  with  the  outward  act.  ^Now,  the  pos- 
session of  love  is  the  best,  the  only  certain  means  of  pro 
moting  happiness.  Being  a  fountain,  it  will  be  flowing 
out  and  watering  all.  It  prompts  to  the  promotion  of  the 
happiness  of  all  sentient  beings,  including  the  lower  ani- 
mals. Being  regulated  by  law,  it  will  flow  out  in  fm-ther- 
ing  the  happiness  of  those  with  whom  we  come  in  contact, 
by  pleasing  manners,  by  obliging  acts,  by  honoring  all 
men,  by  sympathy  with  distress,  by  relieving  the  wants  of 
the  poor,  by  securing  the  education  of  the  young,  and  the 
spread  of  literature  and  the  arts,  and  the  propagating  of 
truth  and  love  all  over  the  world.  The  greatest-happiness 
principle  is  as  much  a  part  of  intuitive  as  of  utilitarian 
morals.  My  inward  law  and  the  God  w^ho  planted  it  there 
require  me  to  labor  to  promote  the  good  of  all  mankind. 
But  the  intuitive  theory  requires  other  duties.  It  enjoins 
that  w^e  love  and  revere  and  worship  God,  and  that  we 
promote  the  moral  excellence  as  well  as  the  felicity  of  our 
fellow-men. 


308  spencer's  ethics. 

Sixth.  It  is  needful  to  expose  a  fallacy  running  tlirongh 
his  whole  argument  that  moral  good  has  respect  to  happi- 
ness as  its  end.  It  is  that  of  making  the  conclusion  wider 
than  the  premises,  that  of  supposing  that  he  has  established 
the  whole  when  he  has  proven  only  a  part.  He  proves 
that  happiness  is  an  end  and  a  good  end,  but  not  that  it  is 
the  only  end  or  the  highest  end. 


SECTION  XIV. 

HIS    GENERATION    OF    ALTRUISM    OUT    OF    EGOISM. 

Here  I  may  repeat  that  I  do  not  like  the  phrase  Altru- 
ism, introduced  by  Comte,  adopted  by  Spencer,  and  fa- 
vored by  their  disciples,  so  that  we  know  at  once  to  what 
school  a  writer  belongs  when  he  uses  it.  We  had  an  old 
word.  Love,  much  more  full  of  meaning,  and  with  many 
pleasant  associations,  and  I  prefer  using  it,  only  I  have  to 
use  our  author's  phraseology  in  explaining  his  meaning. 

He  argues  with  great  ingenuity  and  power,  and  with  a 
superabundance  of  illustrations,  that  altruism  can  be  evolved 
from  egoism.  I  am  not  sure  that  he  has  succeeded.  He 
shows  how  altruism  comes  to  be  identified  with  egoism. 
I  will  allow  Mr.  Spencer  to  illustrate  this  in  his  own  lan- 
guage. He  shows  how  parents  bequeath  part  of  their 
bodies  to  form  offspring  at  the  cost  of  their  own  individu- 
alities, and  how  generally  throughout  the  insect  world 
maturity  having  been  reached  and  a  new  generation  pro- 
vided for,  life  ends.  "When  a  part  of  the  parental  body  is 
detached,  in  the  shape  of  gemmule,  or  Qgg,  or  foetus,  the 
material  sacrifice  is  conspicuous  ;  and  when  the  mother 
yields  milk,  by  absorbing  which  the  young  one  grows,  it 
cannot  be  questioned  that  there  is  also  a  material  sacrifice. 


HIS  genereiiatio:n"  of  altruism.  309 

Tlie  agitation  which  creatures  show  when  their  yonng  are 
in  danger,  joined  often  with  efforts  on  their  behalf,  as  well 
as  the  grief  displayed  after  loss  of  their  jonng,  make  it 
manifest  that  in  them  parental  altruism  has  a  concomi- 
tant of  emotion.  Self-sacrifice,  then,  is  no  less  primordial 
than  self-preservation.  He  shows  that  there  is  an  advance 
bj  degrees  from  unconscious  parental  altruism  to  conscious 
parental  altruism,  and  farther,  an  advance  from  the  altru- 
ism of  the  family  to  social  altruism.  Rising  higher,  per- 
sonal welfare  depends  on  due  regard  for  the  welfare  of 
others.  The  bodily  ill-being  of  a  man's  neighbors,  say  in 
the  form  of  infectious  disease,  may  come  to  affect  the  man 
himself.  Each  has  a  private  interest  in  public  morals 
and  profits  by  improving  them.  Evils  are  suffered  by 
those  Avhose  behavior  is  unsympathetic,  and  benefits  are 
brought  to  self  by  unselfish  conduct.  Then  there  is  an 
egoistic  aspect  of  altruistic  pleasure  ;  for,  whether  know- 
ingly or  unknowingly  gained,  the  state  of  mind  accompany- 
ing altruistic  action  being  a  pleasurable  state,  is  to  be 
counted  in  the  sum  of  pleasures  which  the  individual  re- 
ceives. Then,  a  societ^^,  like  a  species,  survives  only  on 
condition  that  each  generation  of  its  members  shall  yield 
to  the  next  benefits  equivalent  to  those  it  has  received 
from  the  last.  This  dependence  of  egoism  upon  altruism 
ranges  beyond  the  limits  of  each  society  and  tends  ever 
toward  universality,  and  throughout  the  whole  community 
the  internal  welfare  of  each  becomes  a  matter  of  concern 
to  the  others.  I  have  allowed  Mr.  Spencer  to  speak  for 
himself.  He  has  certainly  shown  how  egoism  and  altruism 
may  strengthen  each  other,  supposing  each  to  exist  inde- 
pendently. When  a  work  comes  to  be  written,  as  I  an- 
ticipate that  there  will  sooner  or  later,  on  final  cause  as 
exhibited  in  evolution,  the  cases  adduced  by  Spencer  will 
be  brought  forward  as  eminent  examples  of  design. 


310  spencer's  ethics. 

I  can  conceive  altruism  as  mere  outward  action  or  con- 
duct proceeding  from  egoism.  But  I  see  no  evidence  that 
self-interest  can  genei-ate  altruism  in  the  sense  of  love. 
Any  man  can  see  that  he  who  w^ould  make  friends  must 
make  himself  friendly.  This  may  lead  to  kind  acts,  but  not 
necessarily  to  kind  dispositions ;  to  beneficence,  but  not  to 
benevolence.  The  acts  done  may  proceed  merely  from  a 
far-sighted  selfishness,  which  is  not  virtue.  But  in  human 
nature  there  are  disinterested  social  feelings  with  not  the 
slightest  taint  of  selfishness.  I  believe  that  the  love  of 
self  and  the  love  of  others  are  wells  down  in  the  depths  of 
our  nature  which  have  sprung  up  simultaneously,  being 
fed  from  on  high,  created,  or  if  any  prefer  it,  developed, 
which  is  simply  a  continuance  of  the  creation.  Only  thus 
have  we  the  true  virtue.  "  Charity  suffereth  long  and  is 
kind ;  charity  envieth  not,  charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is 
not  puffed  up  :  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly  ;  seeketh 
not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil ;  re- 
joiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth ;  beareth 
all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth 
all  things." 


SECTION  XV. 

ETHICAL   PRINCIPLES    REJECTED   BY    HIM. 

He  rejects  those  theories  which  look  (1)  to  the  character 
of  the  agent ;  (2)  to  the  nature  of  the  motives ;  (3)  to  the 
quality  of  his  deeds  ;  (4)  he  also  rejects  free-wilL  In  do- 
ing this  he  has  ^et  himself  against  the  great  body  of  our 
moralists  in  ancient  and  modern  times.  These  maintain 
that  the  one  or  the  whole  of  these  should  be  looked  at  in 
approving  an  action  as  morally  good,  or  disapproving  of  it 
as  morally  evil.     According  to  the  generally  accepted  doc- 


ETHICAL  PEINCIPLES   REJECTED   BY  HIM.       311 

trine  a  morally  good  action  is  the  act  of  a  (so  far)  good 
agent,  swayed  by  a  good  motive,  and  doing  a  good  deed,  of 
his  free-will.  In  judging  of  moral  acts  we  look  and  feel 
that  we  ought  to  look  to  the  agent,  the  actuating  principle, 
the  act,  and  the  willingness  of  it.  "We  declare  that  act  to 
be  good  which  is  done  by  a  man  good  at  least  for  the 
moment,  from  a  loving  motive,  just  in  itself,  and  from 
the  heart. 

The  Character  of  the  Agent. — AVe  look  to  this  so  far  in 
judging  of  the  deed,  and  always  in  having  any  confidence 
that  good  will  arise.  If  the  man  is  a  robber  swayed  by 
revenge,  doing  a  deed  bad  in  itself,  but  of  an  immediately 
useful  tendency,  say  murdering  another  and  a  more  for- 
midable robber,  we  do  not  give  our  approbation. 

The  Motive. — However  we  may  admire  his  talents,  we 
do  not  regard  that  man  as  specially  virtuous  who,  for  the 
purpose  of  securing  money,  invented  a  machine  which 
may  add  immeasurably  to  the  resources  of  humanity.  We 
do  not  give  credit  to  one  who  does  alms  to  be  seen  of  men. 

The  Act. — We  look  to  the  deed  considered  in  itself.  It 
is  not  enough  that  it  be  well  meaning,  we  must  see  whether 
it  be  conformed  to  the  eternal  principles  of  justice,  and  be 
fitted  to  further  the  best  interests  of  the  race.  Every  one 
acknowledges  that  there  may  be  a  weak  charity,  which 
promotes  the  evil  which  it  is  intended  to  remove. 

Fi^ee-  Will. — Mr.  Spencer  argues  against  the  existence  of 
free-will ;  the  will  of  man  is  as  little  free  as  that  of  the 
brutes.  Free-will  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  his  evolution 
theory.  If  it  did  exist  it  would  be  an  evil.  Every  inde- 
pendent will,  and  much  more  such  a  will  on  the  part  of  the 
hundreds  of  millions  of  human  beings  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  at  every  given  moment,  might  seriously  interfere 
with  that  development  which  is  going  on  so  beneficently 
under  the  underground  control  of  the  unknown  '^  Freedom 


312  spencer's  ethics. 

of  Will,"  did  it  exist,  would  be  at  variance  with  the  bene- 
ficent necessity  displayed  in  tlie  evolution  of  the  correspon- 
dence between  the  organism  and  its  environment  {Psych., 
i.,  503).  I  confess  I  do  not  look  forward  with  lively  inter- 
est to  the  generation  by  development  of  a  concrete  in 
which  the  highest  advance  is  without  free-will  and  with- 
out love. 


SECTION  XVI. 

HIS   CRITICISM    OF   ETHICAL   THEORIES. 

He  tries  hard  to  prove  that  all  theories  of  virtue  show 
that  happiness  is  their  final  end.  With  this  view  he  ex- 
amines the  theory  of  perfection.  It  is  supposed  to  have 
been  held,  in  a  general  way,  by  Plato,  and  more  distinctly 
by  Jonathan  Edwards.  I  am  not  sure  that  he  has  a  very 
accurate  idea  of  the  view  of  either  of  these  men.  Plato 
held  that  the  highest  excellence  consisted  in  the  contem- 
plation of  the  idea  of  the  one,  the  true,  the  good,  an 
opinion  carried  to  an  extreme  by  the  ]^eo-Platonists  of 
Alexandria.  According  to  Edwards,  virtue  consists  in  love 
to  being,  according  as  being  has  claims  upon  it — a  theory 
which  implies  an  affection  and  a  law  of  its  distribution. 
Neither  of  these  theories  can  aid  him  in  constructing  a 
theory  which  rests  on  happiness,  for  they  both  look  to 
something  above  happiness. 

He  also  examines  the  theory  of  those  moralists  who  sup- 
pose themselves  to  have  conceptions  of  virtue  as  an  end 
underived  from'  any  other,  and  who  look  on  virtue  as  not 
resolvable  into  simpler  ideas.  He  thinks  that  Aristotle 
holds  this  view.  Again  I  am  in  doubts.  Aristotle's  defi- 
nition of  virtue  (aperrj)  is  a  somewhat  complex  one :  "  It 
is  a  habit  (or  tendency)  founded  on,  and  exercising  deliber- 


HIS   CRITICISM   OF   ETHICAL   THEOEIES.  313 

ate  preference  in  a  measure  relative  to  ourselves,  defined 
bj  right  reason,  and  according  to  the  definition  of  a  man 
of  moral  wisdom."  It  vrould  take  a  dissertation  to  unfold 
all  that  is  embraced  in  this.  But  there  are  two  most  im- 
portant elements,  altogether  overlooked  by  Spencer,  the 
one,  that  in  virtue  there  is  Will,  even  deliberate  preference 
(7rpoaip€cn<;\  and  the  other,  Reason.  But  there  are  many 
moralists  who  think  that  virtue  is  not  resolvable  into 
simpler  ideas,  such  as  the  Scottish  School,  Kant,  and  M. 
Cousin.  Taking  the  virtues  of  courage  and  chastity,  he 
argues,  on  the  supposition  that  virtue  is  primordial  and  in- 
dependent, no  reason  can  be  given  why  there  should  be 
any  correspondence  between  virtuous  conduct  and  conduct 
that  is  pleasurable  in  its  total  effects  on  self  or  others  or 
both  ;  and  if  there  is  not  a  necessary  correspondence  it  is 
conceivable  that  the  conduct  classed  as  virtuous  should  be 
paingiving  in  its  total  effects.  The  answer  is  easy  and  at 
hand.  Virtue  being  regulated  lov^e,  or,  at  least,  containing 
love  as  its  highest  element,  the  effect  of  it  as  a  whole  can- 
not be  paingiving.  In  the  case  of  the  two  virtues  named, 
they  need  a  more  powerful  motive  than  merely  the  promo- 
tion of  happiness,  and  this  is  to  be  found  in  a  rule  like  the 
Christian  one,  of  doing  to  others  as  we  would  that  they 
should  do  unto  us.  We  thus  see  that  in  the  end  we  should 
contemplate  there  is  not  only  happiness  but  a  further  end 
— an  end  in  itself — which  promotes  and  so  secures  happi- 
ness. 

He  next  examines,  with  the  same  view,  the  intuitional 
theorv  of  morals.  This  has  often  been  stated  so  as  to 
make  it  indefensible.  Properly  enunciated  it  contains  a 
truth  which  must  have  a  place  in  a  true  theory  of  morals. 
Mind,  I  hold,  has  a  power  of  knowing  and  discerning 
things.  In  particular  its  moral  sense,  or  rather  percep- 
tion, has  a  power  of  perceiving  good  and  evil  in  certain 


314  spencee's  ethics. 

voluntary  acts — good  in  gratitude  and  evil  in  ingratitude. 
Specially  it  sees  good  in  love  under  its  various  forms,  such 
as  sympathy,  compassion.  This  love  does  look  to  the  hap- 
piness of  sentient  creation.  The  law  to  which  the  con- 
science points  guides  and  guards  this  love.  It  points  to 
the  objects  and  qualities  toward  which  it  should  flow,  and 
also  to  those  from  which  it  should  turn  away.  It  contains 
within  itself  a  motive  to  the  performance  of  the  act,  a 
compulsion — not  a  physical,  but  a  moral  one — to  act. 


SECTION  xvn. 

HIS   TTILITAKIAi^^ISM. 

His  theory  is  avowedly  a  form  of  the  utilitarian.  But 
he  thinks  he  has  given  it  a  better  form  than  it  takes  in  the 
systems  of  Bentham  and  Mill.  He  calls  his  own  system 
rational  utilitarianism,  as  distinguished  from  empirical. 
He  sees  how  vague  and  uncertain  are  the  principles  of  the 
common  utilitarianism  and  the  uselessness  for  practical 
purposes  of  the  precepts  derived  from  them ;  it  being  dif- 
ficult to  decide  as  to  many  acts  whether  they  are  or  are 
not,  upon  the  whole,  fitted  to  produce  a  greater  amount  of 
happiness  or  misery.  He  tells  us,  however,  "I  conceive 
it  to  be  the  business  of  moral  science  to  deduce  from  the 
laws  of  life  and  the  conditions  of  existence  what  kinds  of 
action  necessarily  tend  to  produce,  happiness  and  what 
kinds  to  produce  unhappiness.  Having  done  this,  its  de- 
ductions are  to" be  recognized  as  laws  of  conduct"  (Z^<z^. 
Eih.^  57).  We  will  look  forward  with  interest  to  his  prom- 
ised work,  the  Principles  of  Morality,  to  see  if  he  is  able 
to  accomplish  this. 

It  is  important  to  be  able  to  put  what  is  sanctioned  by 


EXAMINATION   OF  HIS   MOEAL   THEORY.  315 

general  utility  into  the  form  of  laws.  This  is  done  im- 
perfectly in  the  advices  which  parents  give  to  their  children, 
in  the  saws,  proverbs,  and  wise  maxinis  wliich  pass  from 
mouth  to  mouth  in  society,  such  as  "  Honesty  is  the  best 
policy,"  "  The  truth  wrongs  no  one."  But  these  are  loose 
in  themselves  and  in  the  expression  of  them.  A  more 
definite  enunciation  of  them,  constituting  a  jurisprudence, 
might  accomplish  some  important  ethical  ends.  It  would 
help  to  bring  intuitive  morals  and  utilitarian  into  closer  cor- 
respondence. But  it  would  not  provide  what  is  the  great 
want  of  utilitarianism  under  all  its  forms.  It  has  been 
shown  again  and  again  that  the  common  utilitarianism  has 
no  sanction  to  authorize  it,  and  no  motives  to  constrain 
attention  to  what  it  recommends.  The  rational  form  is 
quite  as  powerless  in  this  respect  as  the  empirical.  In  the 
first  place,  the  great  body  of  mankind  would  not  compre- 
hend these  laws,  drawn  out  in  scientific  form,  say  by  Mr. 
Spencer.  Conceive  a  child,  a  savage,  a  laborer,  a  busy 
business  man,  a  gay  lady,  a  naturally  frivolous  boy  obliged, 
in  order  to  get  ground  for  morality,  to  read  ponderous  vol- 
umes, drawing  duty  from  "  the  laws  of  life  and  the  condi- 
tions of  existence."  Suppose  some  one  should  succeed  in 
all  this,  what  would  prevent  him  from  setting  all  these 
laws  at  defiance,  and  rushing  on  to  the  gratification  of  his 
pride,  his  lust,  his  passion  ?  "  These  are  to  be  recognized 
fis  laws  of  conduct ; "  but  where  is  the  power  to  make  this 
obligatory  ? 


SECTION  xvin. 

SPECIAL   EXAMINATION   OF   HIS   MORAL   THEORY. 

"We  are  now  in  a  position  to  understand  and  to  judge  of 
this  new  and  considerably  pretentious  theory  which  is  to 
give  a  scientific  basis  to  ethics.     Conduct  is  acts  adjusted 


316  spencer's  ethics. 

to  ends.  Conduct  is  good  when  it  accomplishes  its  ends. 
Conduct  is  morally  good  when  it  promotes  the  greatest 
liappiness.  There  are  passages  which  leave  upon  us  the 
impression  that  mechanical  acts  may  be  regarded  as  good 
when,  on  the  whole,  they  favor  the  production  of  pleasure, 
and  this  without  at  all  looking  to  an  agent.  "  Beyond  the 
conduct  commonly  approved  of  or  reprobated  as  right  or 
wrong,  there  is  included  all  conduct  which  furthers  or 
hinders  in  either  direct  or  indirect  ways  the  welfare  of  self 
and  others."  According  to  this  view  there  may  certainly 
be  good  in  organic  acts,  in  all  vital  acts.  The  lower  ani- 
mals commit  good  acts  when  they  do  deeds  which  add  to 
happiness.  "  There  is  a  supposable  formula  for  the  activ- 
ities of  each  species  of  animal  which,  could  it  be  drawn 
out,  would  constitute  a  system  of  morality  for  that  spe- 
cies ! "  Surely  we  have  here  a  new  ethical  code.  It 
seems  the  doctrine  of  the  whole  school.  Darwin  speaks 
deliberately  of  its  being  the  duty  of  the  hound  to  hunt. 
The  morality  of  animals  is  supposed  to  rise  insensibly  and 
by  degrees  into  that  of  man. 

He  makes  the  biological  progression  with  its  controls 
generate  the  conscience.  "  The  intuitions  of  a  moral  fac- 
ulty are  the  slowly-organized  results  of  experience  received 
by  the  race."  In  fact,  the  conscience  seems  to  be  merely 
a  nervous  structure.  "  I  believe  that  the  experiences  of 
utility  organized  and  consolidated  through  all  past  genera- 
tions of  the  human  race  have  been  producing  correspond- 
ing nervous  modifications  which,  by  continued  trans- 
mission and  accumulation,  have  become  in  us  certain 
faculties  of  moral  intuition."  Our  moral  intuitions  are 
thus  nervous  modifications  hecome  hereditary !  Is  this 
the  highest  product  of  development  ?  this  the  copestone  of 
the  new  philosophy  ? 

He  gives  to  this  conscience  a   certain   impulsive  and 


exami:n-ation  of  his  moeal  theoet.       317 

guiding  power.  "That  the  intuitions  of  a  moral  faculty 
should  guide  our  conduct  is  a  proposition  in  which  truth 
is  contained,  for  these  intuitions  of  a  moral  facult}^  are  the 
slowly-organized  results  received  of  the  race  while  living 
in  presence  of  these  conditions."  The  conscience  thus 
generated  evidently  cannot  furnish  a  standard  or  an  ulti- 
mate criterion.  In  different  circumstances  and  with  a  dif- 
ferent heredity  its  decisions  might  have  been  different. 
In  opposition  to  all  this,  I  hold  that  conscience  is  an  intui- 
tion looking  into  certain  voluntary  acts  and  declaring  them 
to  be  good  or  evil  in  their  very  nature.  This  conscience 
can  stand  the  tests  of  intuition,  even  those  of  Spencer.  It 
is  self-evident,  and  its  negation  is  inconceivable  ;  we  can- 
not conceive  that  hypocrisy,  say  religious  hypocrisy,  should 
be  good.  The  culmination  of  our  philosophy  is  thus 
Hamilton's  favorite  maxim :  "  On  earth  there  is  noth- 
ing great  but  man,  in  man  there  is  nothing  great  but 
mind  ;  "  and  I  might  add,  in  mind  there  is  nothing  great 
but  love  guided  by  law. 

This  carries  with  it  Moral  Obligation.  Spencer  takes 
much  the  same  view  of  obligation  as  Bain.  He  supposes 
it  to  arise  from  a  restraint  imposed  by  force,  such  as  a 
ruler,  a  government,  or  supernatural  agency — in  which  last 
Spencer  does  not  believe.  Interpreting  the  revelations  of 
conscience  as  an  intuition,  I  claim  for  it  a  higher  place. 
It  is  an  obligation  to  obey  a  law  involving,  as  Kant  power- 
fully argues,  a  law-giver,  being  evidently  the  very  gov- 
ernor who  has  presided  over  organic  development,  as  it 
contends  with  its  environments,  and  causing  it  to  make 
for  happiness.  The  obligation  is  laid  upon  us  to  do  what 
is  right,  and  in  doing  so  to  give  every  one  his  due,  and  as 
much  as  within  us  lies  to  promote  his  welfare.  This  gives 
the  idea  of  justice,  and  our  obligation  to  attend  to  it. 

Of  the  same  character  is  the  idea,  the  sense,  and  the 


318  spencer's  ethics. 

obligation  of  Diitj.  Spencer  argues  that  as  morality  ad- 
vances from  an  act  to  a  habit,  the  feeling  of  duty  becomes 
less  and  less,  and  may  disappear.  There  is  some  truth 
here,  but  it  is  only  partial  truth.  When  the  habit  of  good 
is  completed,  the  work  is  done  without  restraint.  But 
then  the  felt  obligation  of  duty  is  necessary  to  form  the 
habit.  It  is  best  when  the  sense  of  duty  and  love  go  to- 
gether in  the  performance  of  an  act.  When  the  feeling 
of  obligation  is  withdrawn,  the  feelings  will  be  apt  to 
waver  and  the  conduct  to  become  inconsistent.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  people  should  always  be  thinking  of  the  re- 
straint; the  habits  and  sentiments  will  of  ten  act  best  when 
they  follow  their  own  generated  nature.  But  it  is  impor- 
tant that  the  law  should  ever  be  there,  even  as  the  horse 
will  go  all  the  steadier  because  of  the  curb  in  his  mouth, 
though  the  rider  may  not  always  be  using  it. 


SECTION  XIX. 

ABSOLUTE    AlO)    RELATIVE    ETHICS. 

He  has  an  Absolute  Ethics,  and  thinks  it  of  great  mo- 
ment that  he  should  have.  But  it  is  like  the  meeting  of 
the  asymptotes  of  an  hyperbola  at  an  infinite  distance. 
It  will  be  reached  when  the  external  circumstances  are 
brought  into  harmony  with  the  internal  life.  "  The  co- 
existence of  a  perfect  man  and  an  imperfect  society  is  impos- 
sible "  (p.  179).  .  I  hold,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  may  be,  nay, 
that  it  has  actually  been,  the  work  of  a  perfect  man  to 
labor  to  make  society  perfect.  He  tells  us,  farther,  that 
"  conduct  which  has  any  concomitant  of  pain  or  any  painful 
consequence  is  partially  wrong  "  (p.  261).  With  my  views  of 
morality  I  cannot  coincide  with  this.     I  do  not  know  that 


ABSOLUTE  AND    RELATIVE  ETHICS.  319 

it  is  partially  wrong  to  cut  off  a  limb  when  by  doing  so 
life  is  preserved,  still  less  to  conquer  a  vice  by  an  exertion 
which  may  be  painful.  "  Actions  of  a  kind  purely  pleas- 
urable in  their  immediate  and  remote  effects  are  abso- 
lutely right,"  and  "they  only."  It  is  allowed  that  it  must 
be  unnumbered  ages  before  there  can  be  such  actions. 
"  Ethics  has  for  its  subject-matter  that  form  which  univer- 
sal conduct  assumes  during  the  last  stages  of  evolution," 
"  these  last  stages  in  the  evolution  of  being  when  man  is 
forced,  by  increase  of  numbers,  to  live  more  and  more  in 
presence  of  his  fellows."  We  are  told  "  that  the  conduct 
to  which  we  apply  the  name  good  is  the  relatively  more 
evolved  conduct ;  and  that  bad  is  the  name  we  apply  to 
conduct  which  is  relatively  less  evolved."  It  is  clear  that 
his  absolute  ethics  can  be  reached  only  when  development 
has  advanced  hundreds  of  thousands  or  millions  of  years. 
An  old  fisherman  who  lived  eighteen  hundred  yeai*s  ago 
knew  somehow  that  this  world  was  to  be  burned  up  with 
fire  ;  and  it  is  a  part  of  Spencer's  philosophy  that  this  must 
be  so,  and  I  suspect  that  this  conflagration  may  be  kindled 
before  his  perfect  ethics  are  reached, — and  then  will  not 
be  reached,  for  then  there  will  be  intolerable  pain.  And, 
after  all,  what  interest  have  the  men  and  women  now  liv- 
ing, and  anxious,  it  may  be,  to  know  what  is  their  present 
duty,  in  this  inconceivably  remote  state  of  things  ?  After 
all,  his  perfect  ethics  do  not  consist  in  love,  or  in  any  vol- 
untary acts  or  dispositions,  but,  to  all  appearance,  simply 
in  an  advanced  zoological  concretion  in  which  there  will 
indeed  be  no  pain  (though  how  it  is  to  be  got  rid  of  is  not 
explained),  but  at  the  same  time  no  room  for  heroism, 
self-sacrifice,  and  devotion. 

He  has  also  a  Relative  Ethics,  but  not,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  of  a  high  character.  "  It  is  the  least  wrong  which  is 
relatively  right."     His  statements  on  this   subject  leave 


820  speistcer's  ethics. 

morality  in  a  very  uncertain  and  loose  state,  and  might 
open  the  door  to  all  sorts  of  excuses  for  the  neglect  of 
what  is,  after  all,  paramount  duty.  "  Throughout  a  con- 
siderable part  of  conduct  no  guiding,  no  method  of  esti- 
mation enables  us  to  say  whether  a  proposed  course  is 
even  relatively  right  as  causing  proximately  and  remotely, 
specially  and  generally,  the  greatest  surplus  of  good  over 
evil."  How  much  room  is  left  here  for  the  crooked  casu- 
istry of  the  heart !  "  As  now  carried  on,  life  hourly  sets 
the  claims  of  present  self  against  the  claims  of  future 
self,  and  hourly  brings  individual  interests  face  to  face 
with  the  interests  of  other  individuals,  taken  singly  or  as 
associated.  In  many  such  cases  the  decisions  can  he  noth- 
ings nfiore  than  com^yromisesP 

What  an  encouragement  in  all  this  to  compromises,  to 
favor  personal  aggrandizement  or  sensual  gratification  ! 
He  gives  the  case  of  a  farmer  whose  political  principles 
prompt  him  to  vote  in  opposition  to  his  landlord.  "The 
man  in  such  a  case  has  to  balance  the  evil  that  may  arise 
to  his  family  against  the  evil  that  may  arise  to  his  country. 
In  countless  such  cases  no  one  can  decide  by  which  of  the 
alternative  courses  the  least  wrong  is  likely  to  be  done  "(p. 
267).  Is  this  safe  morality  ?  And  yet  I  believe  it  is  the 
only  moralit}'^  that  can  result  from  the  balancings  of  pleas- 
ures and  pains.  Call  in  a  moral  law,  and  it  will  decide  the 
question  at  once,  and  declare  that  the  man  ought  to  follow 
his  principles  and  leave  the  issues  to  God. 

Mr.  Spencer  has  an  ideal.  All  great  men  have.  He 
thinks  that  there  is  a  development  now  going  on  which 
must  produce  a  better  state  of  things.  In  this  respect  his 
system  is,  in  my  view,  superior  to  that  still  more  preten- 
tious one  of  pessimism  which  has  been  gendered  in  disap- 
pointed and  diseased  minds  as  in  a  marsh,  and  after  which 
some  speculative  youths  are  wondering.     But  I  have  doubts 


ABSOLUTE  AND   EELATIVE  ETHICS.  321 

whether  the  agencies  which  he  calls  in  can  effect  the  end 
he  is  expecting — the  removal  of  all  evil.  Hitherto  the  ad- 
vance of  intelligence  and  civilization,  while  it  has  removed 
certain  evils,  has  introduced  others,  and  apparently  must 
continue  to  do  so.  Amidst  all  ameliorations  of  outward 
estate  moral  evil  abideth— sin  which  Spencer  has  never 
ventured  to  look  at.  The  happj  close  to  our  world's  his- 
tory which  so  many  are  looking  for  will  not  be  brought 
about  except  by  causes  that  remove  the  moral  evil.  I  do 
expect  that  "  at  evening  time  it  will  be  light."  But  1  be- 
lieve that  it  is  to  be  brought  about  by  a  higher  power  super- 
induced on  all  that  has  gone  before. 

I  confess  that  I  am  not  able  very  clearly  to  see  what  is 
to  be  the  precise  state  of  this  world  millions  of  years 
lience,  when  the  powers  at  present  acting  are  fully  devel- 
oped, and  before  it  is  burned  up  by  fire.  Certain  vices 
will  have  disappeared,  but  others,  I  fear,  may  have  in- 
creased. I  can  see  no  way  in  which  pain,  in  which  dis- 
ease is  to  be  altogether  removed.  In  the  condensed  and 
crowded  state  of  society  there  must  be  struggles  for  ex- 
istence, competing  interests,  clashing  rivalries,  and  wars. 
In  the  presence  one  of  another,  certain  evils  will  be  re- 
strained, but  others  will  be  kindled  in  the  collision — human 
nature  remaining  as  it  is.  The  evil  will  not  be  removed 
except  by  some  power  which  ameliorates  human  nature, 
embracing  man's  affections  and  will. 

In  an  earlier  I^umber  of  this  Series,  in  speaking  of  ""What 
Development -can  do,  and  what  it  cannot  do,"  I  have  shown 
that  new  powers,  natural  or  supernatural  have  appeared  as 
the  ages  advanced.  I  believe  in  all  that  Spencer  has  estab- 
lished as  to  progression  in  nature  :  of  the  animate  being 
superinduced  upon  the  inanimate  ;  of  the  sentient  upon  the 
insentient ;  of  the  conscious  upon  the  unconscious  ;  of  the 
intelligent  upon  the  unintelligent,  and  of  the  moral  upon 


322 

tlie  intelligent ;  but  I  may,  and  I  do  cherish  the  expecta- 
tioii  of  a  higher  advancement  rising  above  all  that  has 
gone  before.  Agassiz  perceived  in  the  frames  of  the 
lower  animals  the  anticipations  of  man's  more  fully  devel- 
oped body,  so  in  man's  intellectual  and  moral  nature  I  dis 
cover  a  prognostic  of  a  higher  and  a  spiritual  character. 

I  have  written  the  paper  which  I  am  now  to  close  with 
a  deep  sense  of  responsibility,  being  awed  at  once  by  the 
masterly  ability  of  my  opponent,  and  the  vast  interests, 
speculative  and  practical,  at  stake.  I  have  endeavored  to 
examine  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy,  as  in  former  years  I 
did  that  of  Mr.  Mill  (when  his  fame  was  the  highest), 
fairly  and  candidly.  My  labor  has  been  stiff  because  the 
work  I  review  is  a  stiff  one  and  is  developed  in  so  manj^ 
elaborate  volumes.  I  see  no  difSculty  in  answ^ering  our 
author,  provided  I  understand  him.  I  believe  I  see  his 
meaning  and  can  estimate  the  drift  of  his  speculations.  I 
have  followed  the  development  of  his  system  from  his 
"  Fii'st  Princvples  "  onward  to  the  begiiming  of  the  con- 
summation of  his  work.  I  have  cheerfully  accepted  his 
scientific  statement  of  facts  and  some  of  his  interpretia- 
tions  of  them,  but  have  superadded  others  quite  as  im- 
portant and  quite  as  certain.  I  am  aware  that  the  little 
work  published  does  not  unfold  his  full  ethical  views,  and 
if,  in  further  unfolding  his  plan,  he  brings  in  truth  fitted 
to  fill  the  wide  gaps  which  we  see  yawning  before  us,  I 
will  have  more  pleasure  in  withdrawing  the  objections  I 
have  taken  than  I  have  had  in  advancing  them. 

I  am  constrained  to  conclude  that  the  work  does  not 
furnish  a  scientific  basis  to  ethics.  Had  it  been  described 
as  a  Prej)aratio  Ethica,  I  might  have  something  to  say  in 
its  behalf.  He  does  show  that  in  the  earlier  animal  ages 
there  was  an  advance  in  happiness,  and  that  there  was  a 
preparation  for  morality  to  appear,  and  that  there  are  aids 


ABSOLUTE  AND   PwELATIVE   ETHICS.  323 

to  1mm an  virtue  in  prearrangements  to  call  it  forth  and 
sustain  it.  This  is  what  he  has  succeeded  in.  But  he  has 
not  entered  the  subject  of  ethics,  which  has  to  look  to  char- 
acter and  to  voluntary  acts  of  human  beings. 

The'  system  propounded  implies  a  morality  without  a 
God,  or  at  least  without  any  God  known  or  knowable. 
There  is  no  obligation  provided  requiring  us  to  love,  to 
revere  and  worship  God.  The  morality  recommended  has 
its  sanction  from  a  long  process  of  development  which  has 
gone  on  for  millions  of  years,  carrying  a  mysterious  power 
with  it,  but  this  not  from  a  guide,  governor,  or  law-giver 
— of  whom,  1  believe,  nature  gives  evidence  as  conducting 
the  development  orderly  and  beneficently.  It  has  sanctions 
from  organic  agencies  working  unconsciously  (I  believe  for 
a  purpose),  but  implying  no  responsibility  to  a  ruler  or  a 
judge.  It  is  not  supposed  to  carry  with  it,  as  Kant  main- 
tained that  the  practical  reason  did,  the  necessity  and  cer- 
tainty of  a  world  to  come  and  of  a  judgmeiit-day.  So  far 
as  I  comprehend,  it  does  not  require  or  enjoin  that  virtue 
should  be  voluntary.  It  does  not  give  love  or  benevolence 
a  place,  as  I  believe  it  ought  to  have  the  highest  place,  in 
all  good  conduct.  It  declares  that  morality  is  that  which 
promotes  happiness,  but  it  has  no  constraining  motive, 
such  as  the  intuitive  conscience  supplies,  for  leading  men 
to  feel  that  they  ought  to  labor  for  the  welfare  of  others. 

Our  new  ethics  thus  withdraws  many  of  the  motives 
which  were  supplied  by  the  old  morality.  And  it  does 
not  supply  others  likely  to  take  their  place  and  to  sway 
the  great  body  of  mankind:  men,  women  and  children, 
civilized  and  savage,  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  prosperity 
and  in  adversity,  in  the  hour  of  temptation  and  at  death. 
I  can  conceive  that  some  persons  who  have  mastered  the 
development  theory,  who  believe  in  it  enthusiastically,  may 
be  naoved  by  it  to  high  exertion,  as  feeling  that  they  are 


324  spencer's  ethics. 

thereby  falling  in  with  the  whole  evolution  of  nature.  But 
what  motive  does  it  supply  to  the  peasant,  the  laborer,  the 
young  man  and  maiden,  to  lead  them  to  resist  evil  and 
follow  the  good  ?  And  what  are  we  to  do  with  our  read- 
ing youth  entering  on  life  who  are  told  in  scientific  lec- 
tures and  journals  that  the  old  sanctions  of  morality  are  all 
undermined  ?  What  are  w^e  to  do  for  them,  and  what  are 
they  to  do  in  that  transition  period  which  Mr.  Spencer 
acknowledges  to  be  so  perilous  ?  You  may  say.  Read 
Spencer's  elaborate  volumes  and  fill  your  mind  with  his 
system.  But  this  is  what  the  great  body  of  mankind  will 
not  and  cannot  do,  and  if  they  did  would  any  one  thereby 
be  interested  or  moved?  Our  author  does  not  believe 
that  "  his  conclusions  will  meet  with  any  considerable  ac- 
ceptance." I  believe  the  deluge  of  fire  will  come  before 
they  cover  the  earth.  In  these  circumstances  it  is  surely 
wisdom  to  rest  on  the  old  foundations,  on  an  inw^ard  mon- 
itor guaranteed  by  God,  till  new  ones  are  supplied  on 
which  we  and  others  can  rest. 

In  this  age  we  have  had  two  men  of  powerful  intellect, 
who  have  sought  to  construct  the  universe  without  calling 
in  God,  an  independent  moral  law,  or  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  The  one  of  these,  J.  S.  Mill,  I  had  the  courage  to  op- 
pose when  his  reputation  was  at  its  greatest  height.  His 
influence  has  diminished  and  is  now  chiefly  in  the  spheres  of 
Induction  and  Political  Economy,  on  both  of  which  he  has 
thrown  considerable  light.  The  other  has  not  so  clear  or 
acute  a  mind,  but  he  is  a  more  powerful  speculator,  and  is 
more  thoroughly  conversant  wdth  biology,  the  promising 
science  of  the  day.  I  place  the  two  together  in  order  to 
remark,  that  they  both  have  brought  thinking  to  a  very 
blank  issue.  T^e  one  making  matter  ''  a  mere  possibility 
of  sensation,"  and  mind  "  a  series  of  feelings  aware  of  it- 


ABSOLUTE  AND    RELATIVE   ETHICS.  325 

self,"  and  giving  us  no  morality,  but  merely  pleasure.  It 
is  felt,  especially  since  the  publication  of  his  posthumous 
work,  that  his  philosophy  as  a  whole  is  a  failure.  The 
other  starts  with  the  unknown  and  unknowable,  sets  ago- 
ing a  mechanical  development  out  of  physical  data,  in 
which  there  is  no  requirement  of  moral  law  and  no  free- 
will ;  the  whole  ending  in  a  conflagration,  leaving  as  the 
ashes  only  the  unknown  and  unknowable,  with  which  it 
started.  I  am  sure  that  neither  meets  the  demands  of  our 
intellect,  nor  the  cravings  of  our  heart. 

The  sphinx  is  still  propounding  the  riddle  of  the  uni- 
verse. There  are  two  very  powerful  men  in  our  day  who 
have  tried  to  solve  the  problem  and  have  failed.  We 
know  what,  according  to  the  fable,  their  fate  must  be. 


Rev.  M.  H.  Calkins, 

•NJi^W  CASTLE,  PA, 


PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  Cognitive  Powers. 
By  JAMES  McCOSH,  D.  D.,  LL  D.,  Litt.  D. 

President  of  Princeton  College;   Author  of   *'' Intuitions  of  the  Mind,"  "iaiys  of 
Discursive  Thought,'''  "■Emotions,"  ''■Philosophic  Series,"  etc. 

One  Vol  ,  12mo..  $l.SO. 


***  Application  for  examination  copies  and  cm-res^ondence  in  regard  to  terms  for 
introdiLction  are  requested  from  teachers  desiring  to  select  a  text-booh  in  mental 
science. 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S    SONS,    Publishers,. 
743-745  BROADWAY,   NEW  YORK. 


This  work  is  offered  by  Dr.  McCosli  as  the  result  of  thirty-four 
years  spent  in  teaching  psychology. 

The  author  has  naturally  put  the  conclusions  of  his  think- 
ing into  the  form  of  a  text-book,  but  he  has  by  no  means  im- 
parted to  it  that  quality  of  dulness  which  is  generally  regarded 
as  in  some  sense  essential  in  a  book  of  this  character.  On  the 
contrary,  he  has  treated  the  difficult,  and  at  times,  obscure, 
topics  which  belong  to  the  department  of  psychology  with  char- 
acteristic clearness,  conciseness,  and  strong  individuality. 

His  analyses  of  the  operations  of  the  senses  and  of  their  relac 
tion  to  the  intellectual  processes  are  singularly  clear  and  intelli* 
gible.  He  devotes  considerable  space  to  a  discussion  of  sense 
perception,  illustrating  his  theme  with  appropriate  cuts,  and 
discussing  it  with  fulness  from  the  physiological  side.  A  third 
of  the  book  is  devoted  to  the  reproductive  or  representative 
powers,  in  which  such  subjects  as  the  recalling  power,  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas,  the  power  of  composition,  etc.,  are  described,  while 
the  book  concludes  with  a  full  discussion  of  the  comparative 
powers. 

The  author's  intention  is  to  add  to  the  present  volume  another 


The  several  topics  readily  fall  into  groups  that  have  either 
an  apparent  or  underlying  historic  connection,  which  is  clearly 
brought  out. 

To  enhance  the  interest  of  this  story,  emphasis  has  been 
given  to  everything  that  went  to  make  up  the  home-life  of  the 
pioneer  settlers  or  relates  to  their  various  avocations.  To  know 
how  these  men  lived  is  to  know  the  secret  process  by  which  the 
New  England  character  was  so  moulded  as  to  eventually  become 
a  national  force  as  well  as  type. 


From  the  Literary  News. 

"The  hook  takes  up  the  early  history  of  each  New  England  State  separately, 
and  tells  its  story  from  its  first  discovery,  exploration  and  settlement,  until  a 
period  when  a  stable  government  was  established.  A  liberal  use  is  made  of  de- 
scriptive note*,  maps,  plans,  and  pictornl  illu:*tratlons,  so  that  a  thorough  knowl- 
edgo  of  the  subject  may  be  obtained.  The  style  is  very  attractive,  giving  to  the 
Work  all  the  cliarm  «M  .romance.  Teachers  will  find  it  an  excellent  supplement  to 
the  common  school  text-book,  filling  out  and  vitalizing  the  bare  outlines  of  the 
subject  which  are  generally  embraced  there." 

From  the  Boston  Beacon. 

"  Xot  one  reader  out  of  a  thousand  will  need  any  better  book  on  our  early  his- 
tory than  this  book,  and  young  people  in  particular  will  find  it  far  more  readable 
and  entertaining  than  the  average  story." 

From  the  New  Haven  Palladium. 

"  As  the  plan  is  topical,  it  will  be  a  simple  matter  to  select  the  part  bearing  on 
the  day's  lessons  and  the  good  result  will  manifest  itself  in  n  br^aler  outlook  and 
more  thoughtful  interest  in  history  and  literature." 

From  the  New  York  Journal  of  Commerce. 

*'  Mr.  Drake  requires  only  243  pages  of  bold  legible  type  to  pack  away  the  essen- 
tial facts  heretofore  scattered  through  libraries.  And  in  all  his  compress-ion,  he 
does  not  squeeze  the  juice  out  of  his  subject.  There  is  not  a  dry  page  in  the  book. 
The  ground  covered  is  that  from  1580  to  1043— at  which  date  ceased  the  special  for- 
mative process  which  Mr.  Drake  has  undertaken  to  describe.  The  wealth  of  facts 
contained  in  so  moderate  a  Compaq's  i"?  paralleled  only  by  the  richness  of  the  illus- 
trations—which  are  nearly  140  strong." 

From  the  School  Journal. 

"The  interest  of  the  story  ig  enhanced  by  the  emphasis  given  to  everything 
that  went  to  makeup  the  whole  life  of  the  pioneer  settlers,  or  that  related  to 
their  various  avocations.  It  enables  us  to  see  how  these  men  lived,  and  know 
the  secret  processes  by  which  the  New  England  character  was  so  moulded  as  to 
become  a  national  force  as  well  as  a  type.  The  publication  of  this  book  marks  an 
era  in  the  making  of  historical  works  for  the  young  that  will  soon  revolutionize 

our  present  text-books' on  this  subject it  is  an  admirable  idea,  admirably 

carried  out." 

From  the  New  York  Christian  Advocate. 

"Emphasis  is  given  to  the  home  life  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  for  the  uses 
of  all  but  advanced  students  these  afford  the  best  picture  of  early  New  England 
Tve  have.  It  is  not  only  useful  as  a  school-book,  but  of  worth  in  the  library  of  the 
hurried."  "^ 


From  Pro/esso:'  WiUiam  re  W.  Hjjde  of  Bowdoin  College  in  the  Andover  Review, 

"The  book  is  written  in  a  clear  and  simple  style;  it  breathes  a  sweet  and 
winning  spirit;  and  it  is  inspired  by  a  lioble  purpose,  In  these  respects  it  is  a 
model  of  what  a  text -book  should  be  " 

From  the  New  Princeton  Review. 

"  As  a  text-book,  there  is  no  other  book  that  can  compare  with  it.  It  is  not  a 
mere  comi»enrl  of  psycholotricHi  doctrines,  but  the  matured  system  of  a  master 
who  has  triven  to  his  sul-jeft  the  best  years  of  his  life.  The  book  is  especially  rich 
in  critical  notes  and  historical  summaries  of  the  points  of  recent  investigations  in 
phybiulogi»-al  psychology  and  otlier  fields  of  psychical  research." 

From  the  Christian  Intelligencer. 

"  This  work  will  be  the  crowning  literary  labor  of  the  learned  author,  as  it  will 
be  the  ripened  fruit  of  a  life-long  study  and  of  thirty-four  \ears  of  teaching  in  this 

branch  of  science We  need  only  say  that  this  psychology  is  kept  singularly 

clear  from  a  priori  metaphysics,  and  is  a  strictly  scientific  exposition:  that  it  has 
all  the  author's  charms  of  lucidity  in  thought  and  style,  and  of  freedom  from 
needless  technicalities;  and  that  it  is  illustrated  by  experiment  and  observation 
so  as  to  be  always  interesting,  and  even  at  times  racy  and  refreshing  reading,  and 
Is  so  practically  put  as  to  be  an  incomparable  text-book  on  the  subject." 

From  The  Independent. 

"It  Is  surprising  that  the  author  should  have  been  able  to  compress  what  he 
has  to  sa-'  into  the  compass  of  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  pages.  Doubtless 
his  experience  in  the  le(!ture-room  has  shown  him  the  importance  of  not  over- 
loading the  mind  of  beginners  with  masses  of  details,  and  he  has  learned  to  content 
himself  with  bringing  out  clearly  a  few  fundamental  truths,  leaving  his  pupils  to 
build  for  themselves  upon  this  basis." 

From  The  Christian  Union. 

"Dr.  McCosh's 'Psychology '  is  one  of  the  best  text-books  to  be  put  in  the 
hands  of  college  students  that  has  appeared  of  late  years.  As  the  author  says,  the 
best  book  is  not  the  one  that  does  the  thinking  for  the  student,  bu*;  the  one 
that  sets  him  to  thinking.  The  present  volume  is  one  of  the  latter  class.  While 
it  has  enough  of  the  positive  didactic  statement  in  it  to  prevent  the  student  from 
feeling  that  he  is  in  a  hopeless  sea  of  contradictory  opinions,  it  still  leaves  so  many 
questions  sufiiciently  open,  and  suggests  lines  of  thought  in  so  many  directions, 
that  there  is  little  danger  of  a  text-book  like  this  degenerating  into  adry  catechism 
in  the  hands  of  any  teacher." 

From  the  New  York  Observer. 

"  The  volume  need  not  be  restricted  to  class  instruction,  but  will  be  fountj 
useful  and  Interesting  to  any  intelligent  reader.  Indeed,  there  are  very  few  young 
persons  who  would  not  find  it  eminently  to  their  advantage  to  read  and  re-read 
the  chapter  on  the  use  and  abuse  of  the  Imagination." 

From  the  Boston  Jonrnal  of  Education. 

"  Dr.  McCosh  has  certainly  made  a  remarkable  text-book,— one  that  will  benefit 

the  student-world  by  widening  the  influence  of  this  great  teacher Students 

trained  with  such  a  text-book  can  but  make  keener  men  and  women,  whatever 
tJieir  life-work  may  be;  while  those  who  are  to  make  teaching  their  profession, 
whether  now  In  the  ranks  or  in  preparation  therefor,  will  find  it  a  remarkable 
tonic." 

From  the  New  York  School  Journal. 

"Throughout  the  work  we  are  led  by  no  intricate  reasoning  to  unsatisfactory 
conclusions.  Jt  is  a  rare  success  In  the  bright,  attractive  way  in  which  a  subject 
Is  presented.  One  foreets  he  is  reading  Inductive  psychology,  so  cl  3ar  is  the  style, 
and  so  Impressive  the  ethics," 


The    Emotions. 

BY 

JAMES  McCOSH,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

Presidejii  of  Princeton   College. 


One  Volume,  crown  8vo.,  -        _        -        $2.00. 

In  this  little  volume  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  clearly  printed  pages 
Dr.  McCosh  treats  first  of  the  elements  of  emotion,  and,  secondly,  of  the 
classification  and  description  of  the  emotions.  He  has  been  led  to  the 
consideration  of  his  theme,  as  he  says  in  his  preface,  by  the  vagueness  and 
ambiguity  in  common  thought  and  literature  in  connection  with  the  subject, 
and  by  "  the  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  prevailing  physiological  psychol- 
ogy of  the  day  to  resolve  all  feeling  and  our  very  emotions  into  nervous 
action,  and  thus  gain  an  important  province  of  our  nature  to  materialism." 
The  work  is  characterized  by  that  "  peculiarly  animated  and  epmmanding 
style  which  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  author." 


CRITICAIi    NOTICES. 

"Dr.  McCosh's  style  is  as  lucid,  vigorous,  and  often  beautiful  as  of  old.  There 
5s  never  any  doubt  as  to  his  meaning,  nor  any  hesitation  in  his  utteiance." — London 
Academy. 

"It  would  be  well  if  all  who  have  it  as  the'r  business  to  influence  the  character  of 
men  would  study  such  a  work  as  this  on  the  Emotions." — Examiner  and  Chronicle. 

"We  recommend  it  to  all  students  as  a  perspicuous  and  graceful  contribution  to 
what  has  always  proved  to  be  the  most  popular  part  of  mental  philosophy." — The  N.  Y. 
Kvangelist. 

"The  work  is  marked  by  great  clearness  of  statement  and  profound  scholarship — two 
things  which  are  not  always  combined.  ...  It  will  prove  attractive  and  instructive 
to  any  intelligent  reader." — Albany  Evening  Journal, 

"The  analysis  is  clear  and  the  style  of  crystalline  clearness.  We  are  inclined  to 
think  it  will  be  the  most  popular  of  the  author's  works.  We  have  read  it  from  beginning 
to  end  with  intense  enjoyment — with  as  much  mterest,  indeed,  as  could  attach  to  any 
work  of  fiction."  —  The  Presbyterian. 

"  The  whole  subject  of  the  volume  is  treated  by  Dr.  McCosh  in  a  common  sense  waj', 
with  large  reference  to  its  practical  applications,  aiming  at  clearness  of  exprei^sion  and 
aotness  of  illustration,  rather  than  with  any  show  of  metaphysical  acuteness  or  technical 
nicety,  and  often  with  uncommon  beauty  and  force  ot  diction." — N.  V,  Tribune. 

"Apart  from  the  comprehension  of  the  entire  argument,  any  chapter  and  almost 
every  section  will  prove  a  quickening  and  nourishing  portion  to  many  who  will  ponder 
it.  It  will  be  a  liberal  feeder  of  pastors  and  preachers  who  turn  to  it.  The  almost 
prodigal  outlay  of  illustrations  to  be  found  from  first  to  finis,  will  fascmate  the  reader  if 
nothing  else  docs." — Christian  hitcllii^encer. 


*.}(,*  For    sale    by^    all    booksellers,  or    sent,    postpaid^    upon    receipt    oj 
^rice,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  Publishers, 

743  AND  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


